


Heels Over Head ~ Fantasy Season 4 ~ Written by Miss Miko

by kellankyle



Series: Heels Over Head - Written by Miss Miko [4]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Out of Character, Season/Series 04, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 200,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellankyle/pseuds/kellankyle
Summary: Brian and Justin's first four months of married life.





	1. Still Life

At first it alarmed him, waking and not seeing his ring in its customary place but then he smiled, remembering: _I'm married now_. For a few minutes he admired the ring, as if it were a new addition instead of one that had merely shifted positions. Yet, upon that one small change, great ones had occurred. _"…I now pronounce you partners for life."_ He turned over. There lay his partner, his spouse. My husband. Another smile.

 _You are my angel  
Come from way above   
To bring me love_ 1

So beautiful. Sunlight caught in the golden strands of his hair; blue eyes hidden by closed lids. Brian brushed Justin's bangs back from his forehead, exposing the scar that he would carry all of his life. But he lived. "I love you," Brian whispered even if Justin couldn't hear it.

"I love you too," came the reply, a smile curving about Justin's lips. He opened his eyes and laughed.

"Playing me, huh?" asked Brian, pushing him gently.

Defending his actions, Justin explained, "I didn't wake up until you touched me." They moved closer together and kissed. Parted slightly and remained arms about one another. "So when are we opening up our presents?"

"I'm rubbing up against you and all you can think about is opening wedding gifts?" He sighed and rolled away. "I must be doing something wrong."

Justin neared him again and cupped his crotch. "You're doing everything right," he assured him and they began to kiss again, presents forgotten.

After a moment, Brian exclaimed, "What the fuck!" and reached behind him, grabbing hold of a ball of fur. He dropped the kitten between them and collapsed on the bed. "Shit. First Gus, now the cat." There was always someone keeping them from fooling around.

"Hey, Leo." Justin had already begun petting the kitten. "How did you find us, huh? Did you hear us talking?" The kitten purred and pushed his head against Justin's palm.

"What about me?" Brian asked, wishing Justin was stroking him.

"Wait your turn."

Brian pouted. "What about marital rights?"

"Your cock won't fall off if you wait a few minutes." He turned his attention to Leo. "Or a few hours," he added. "Will it, Leo?"

"Hours?" Brian's voice cracked and he reached for Justin but the young man scooped Leo up in his arms and escaped the bed.

"Are you hungry, Leo? Let's go eat." He grabbed his robe from the trunk at the foot of the bed and carried Leo from the room. Leaving Brian behind.

But not for long. Grumbling, he put on his robe and followed his wayward partner downstairs, picking up Leo's food and water bowls and the rubber mat that went with them as he passed Gus' room. He noticed that the kitten's litter had been used. Smart cat.

Justin had found the bag of Kitten Chow by the time Brian arrived with the bowl and was feeding Leo from his hand, the slender kitten eagerly munching the crunchy bits.

"Here," said Brian and Justin dumped the food into the bowl and set Leo down while Brian replenished his water supply.

"Think we ought to feed him in here?" Brian had put the mat and the two bowls down next to the la mattina.

"As good a place as any. And we're coming down here every day anyway."

"Guess." Stretching, he began to go through the under counter fridge taking out eggs and bacon and butter and starting breakfast while Brian attended to the coffee and bagels, the ad exec having regained the sense of harmony that he'd missed when Mikey had been there and Justin had not. "What are you smiling about?" asked Justin as he whisked the eggs.

"Nothing." Pause. "Everything." Which, in turn, made Justin smile too. He understood what Brian meant.

Finished with the coffee, Brian perched on a bar stool and swung his foot to and fro while Leo tried to catch hold of his toe.

"If he grabs you…" Justin warned.

"Trust me, I felt those claws this morning. Right in my ass." The kitten had climbed up the side of the bed and inadvertently hooked Brian's behind through the sheets.

"Did you buy him any toys?" The kitten had grown tired of chasing Brian's foot and was now under Justin's feet as he attempted to cook.

"Still downstairs probably." He got up and jogged to the family room, Leo behind him, his attention attracted by the rapid movement. Brian returned, Leo in tow, carrying a present. It was a rather large box labeled "The Guys". "I think Mikey and Ted and Emmett and Jeff bought this." He tore off the wrapping and dropped it to the floor. Immediately, Leo pounced on it and fought the bow.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Justin. "You told them." It was a cobalt blue KitchenAid mixer.

He shrugged. "They asked for suggestions and I gave them one."

Justin hugged him and pecked him on the lips. "You're the best hubby ever."

"Do not call me hubby."

"Okay, Pookie."

Brian smacked him on the butt and unpacked the mixer as Justin returned to breakfast. The bacon was done and he only had to scramble the eggs. Pausing in his unpacking, Brian popped the bagels in the toaster. The aroma of coffee and the sound of Leo crunching the wrapping paper filled the air.

Since it was officially their honeymoon, they set the table and took their meal in there; Leo investigated the room while they ate.

"Lot of energy," Brian commented as the kitten stalked shadows and pounced on phantoms. He ran and tripped over his own feet and fell, got up and shook himself off and began again. Brian laughed. "Reminds me of Gus." Twisted his lips in a wry grin. "Reminds me of you." Took hold of Justin's hand across the table. "My Baby Cat."

"I thought I was your Pooh Bear."

"That too."

"I do love milk and honey," he said, licking his lips lasciviously.

"Tell me about it. Drained me dry."

"Completely?"

"Last night," Brian clarified for him. "I've had a few hours to replenish the supply."

Justin laughed helplessly. "I love you."

"Better." Brian added softly, "Cause I don’t know what I'd do without you."

Stretching out his ring hand and admiring the platinum band all over again although he'd been wearing it for over a year, Justin said, "This means you don't have to." Brian caught his hand and kissed his fingers. 

 

Breakfast over, they cleaned the kitchen and lounged on the sectional sofa. Both ignored the pile of presents that remained, not wanting to stir for a while, luxuriating in one another's arms and company, with nothing more pressing on their agenda for the rest of the day other than deciding what they'd have for dinner or when they'd next make love. And judging from Brian's reaction to their kissing, Justin was guessing they were about to make love on the sofa.

"What about Leo?" he asked between kisses as Brian untied his robe and slipped it from his shoulders, kissing them as well.

"What about him?" Impatiently, Brian snatched off his own robe and cast it aside.

"He might watch us."

"Might learn something."

"I don't want to do it if he's looking at us," said Justin, although he was starting not to care as much because Brian had caught hold of his cock and was giving it a good workout.

"Don't think about it," he advised and pushed Justin back upon the seat cushions and spread his legs, lowered his head and began going down on him.

"I… I—Ah," he breathed and then he fell silent except for an occasional sigh or cry. He felt indecent, legs and arms akimbo, back and buttocks molded by the warm leather, cock throbbing inside Brian's mouth, his lips parted and flecked with spittle. Eyelids fluttering, he moaned as his lover's tongue made a circuit of first the head and then the shaft. Married life was definitely for him. 

 

Justin woke and sat up. Leo? Where was he? He woke Brian with his movement as he left the couch and hunted for the kitten.

"What?"

"Leo. I don't see him anywhere. Leo?" he called but the cat did not come. "We gotta find him."

Rising, Brian assured him that the cat had to be in the house somewhere. "He couldn't have gotten outside."

"He might be lost. He's so small and the house is so big. He might hurt himself."

Sighing, Brian resigned himself to searching for their missing pet. "You look down here and I'll go upstairs." He had to get something else to put on anyway as his robe was wet with cum.

"What about the basement?"

"Door's closed." He paused to kiss Justin. "We'll find him." Climbing the tower staircase, Brian could still hear Justin calling to the kitten even at the top. Entering Gus' room first, he softly called the cat's name thinking he'd probably be in there asleep in his house but he was not. Next he checked the laundry room since it had enough crannies that he could have gotten wedged in between something but Leo wasn't there either. Going to their room, Brian called him and was about to give up and hope that Justin had found him when he saw a mound of golden fur in the middle of their bed, half-hidden in the comforter. Brian checked him. The kitten was fast asleep. Smiling, he went to the intercom and buzzed Justin downstairs. "I found him. Asleep in our bed. Smarter than us."

When Justin arrived, Brian was in the bathroom running water in the shower so he joined him.

Looking askance at his spouse and the sultry grin on his face, Brian asked, "Aren't you tired?"

"I'm twenty and I'm on my honeymoon," Justin replied. "There's no such thing as being tired. Besides, we took a nap." He nudged Brian's throat. "Please?"

"Baby, I'm thirty-one and I'm bushed."

"I like your—"

Brian intercepted his hand. "I know you do."

"So fluffy. How do you do that?"

Turning his back on the curious young man, Brian tried to shower but Justin had other ideas. There was more than one way to get what he wanted. If the direct route failed, then he'd have to resort to more circuitous means. Squeezing a hand full of bath gel in his palm, he leaned against the shower wall and began stroking himself.

Determined that he would ignore Justin, Brian tried to concentrate on bathing but his mind and imagination kept returning to his self-pleasuring partner.

"Mmm…" Justin murmured and rubbed the head of his cock, the ruddy flesh covered in suds. Raising his cock in one hand, he used the other to fondle his balls.

"Fuck," Brian cursed and abandoned his plans to remain on the sidelines. Pushing Justin's hands out of the way, he took over and jacked Justin's dick, squeezing his sac roughly and tightening his fist around the swollen head until Justin hissed in pleasure and ejaculated.

"Yeah," he whispered and drew Brian's head down. "That felt great."

Kissing Justin soundly, Brian handed him a bar of soap. "Good. Now, wash my back." 

With Justin satiated for a while, the two men dressed and returned downstairs to open their presents. Leo, who had slept through their bathroom adventures, woke in time to trail behind them.

"He knows he's getting more wrapping paper," said Justin.

Grunting, Brian made a detour downstairs and found the cat toys where Cynthia had left them. He had all of the packages opened before Justin had removed the wrapping from the present he'd chosen from the pile. Getting Leo's attention, he tossed the catnip balls and mice down on the floor and watched the kitten leap for joy. "That'll keep him busy for exactly five minutes," he predicted.

Meanwhile, Justin had finally unwrapped the present from Nana Rose and Xavier and Trey. It was a dark-colored, natural fiber vase inside of a matching holder, the copper-colored fibers spun and arranged to look like a tear-shaped wire basket. "Wow, this is beautiful."

"Nice. Where are we gonna put it?"

"Top of the armoire in our bedroom. It'll be perfect. And there's nothing up there now." Reaching behind his back, Justin handed a small box to Brian.

"What's this?"

"Present for you."

"That wasn't necessary."

"Didn't say it was. So open it."

Lips pressed together to keep from smiling, Brian opened the box and laughed. Inside where a dozen silver tokens. Not bus tokens or subway tokens, these were love tokens. Taking out one, Brian read the inscriptions on both sides: "Kiss token. Good for one kiss." Then another. "Hug token. Good for one hug." He turned to Justin. "Where's the one that says, 'Good for one blow job'?"

Justin found a coin. "I think this covers it."

"Love token. Good for one roll in the hay," read Brian. "Does this mean I'm going to have to beg for it from now on?"

"Just like all married guys."

Opening Lindsay and Mel's gift next, they discovered a handmade designer clock with an embossed copper face and wavy chocolate cherry-colored copper arms radiating from the center like a lotus flower.

"I like it," declared Justin. "I think we should put it over the fireplace in our room."

"It looks like it's surrounded by tits. Leave it to the Munchers to buy us a clock with boobs."

"Least it matches the sofa and the coffee table." Trying to distract him, Justin pointed out another present, he asked, "Who's that from?"

Brian read the label. "Deb and Vic." Rolled his eyes. "God, I hope Vic picked this out."

Although he felt as if he ought to defend Debbie, Justin secretly hoped so too. Luckily, Vic's taste had prevailed and the siblings had bought the newlyweds a lovely, pearly picture frame etched with the words, 'I am my beloved's ~ My beloved is mine.' "For our wedding picture," exclaimed Justin. "It's beautiful. It's perfect."

"Thank you, Vic."

"We're making out pretty good," Justin commented.

"Good friends."

"The best."

Dragging over a huge box, Brian glanced at the tag and held it between his hands for a moment before putting it aside.

"Who's it from?"

"Kenneth," he said casually, then reached for another.

"Let's open it."

With more than a little trepidation, Brian removed the wrapping from the present and opened the box. Reached in and lifted the gift from inside.

"Oh, my God, is that…?"

"Our stemware." He turned the wine goblet in his hand. "Looks like he bought twenty, thirty pieces. Ten sets."

"I can't believe he got that many," Justin said. But, of course, Kenneth had; he had the money and he was in love with Brian, wasn't he? "Oo," said Justin, suddenly remembering. "I wonder how much of our china we got." He began searching through the packages for anything with Ryder's name on it or the firm's. "Found it." Opened the slender envelope. "Fuck," he said with awe in his voice.

"What?"

"They got it all."

"What does that mean?"

"Complete place settings for ten. China and silverware."

"Fuck," agreed Brian. That was very generous of them

"I can't wait to throw a formal dinner party. Our table's going to look so beautiful."

Hoping to distract him from thoughts of dining room furniture, Brian handed him another box. "Keisha and Cecil."

Justin opened their gift. "Check this out," he said, taking two smaller boxes from the larger one. He opened one of them, removing an usually shaped container from the box. It was shaped kind of like a gourd.

"Looks like a cock," Brian said.

"Stop it," warned Justin and he took the rest of the items from the boxes. Turns out they were a saki set and a sushi set in complimentary colors: the saki set in gold and the sushi set in a metallic silver color with gold and white accents.

Brian opened their present from Joanie. She'd insisted on getting them a gift although they'd assured her that her work on the house had been enough. "Lanterns." Each of the rust-colored iron lanterns contained a pillar candle. The filigreed iron reminded Justin of the grates over the tower windows and the entry way gate. "Cool."

"We could hang them in our room, by the French doors, and then take them outside when we want to have an intimate dinner for two on the pergola."

"Sounds good to me."

"Need a table and some chairs out there," he hinted.

"We could sit on a blanket," countered Brian.

Justin smiled, remembering their picnic in the solarium and the picnic they'd gone on after ballooning in the country. "I like picnicking."

Brian's reply was interrupted by Leo, who had decided that now was the perfect time to climb up on Brian's lap and demand to be paid attention to.

"He really likes you."

Petting the kitten absent-mindedly, Brian said, "Yeah, well, he'd better not get used to it. He's your cat."

"Our cat."

"Your cat."

Watching him pet the kitten, Justin asked, "Why don't you like cats?"

"I don't dislike them. I'm just not a pet person."

As Leo softly purred and settled down as if he had no intention of moving ever again, Justin said, "Yeah, I can tell."

Over the next half hour they managed to open all the rest of their presents: Daphne had gotten them decorative throw pillows covered in beautifully embroidered and beaded silk and velvet fabrics. For some reason both Jenn and Molly and Claire and her boys had given them wall sconces although they were designed differently. The Taylor women had gotten them a sconce in the shape of a tree with mirrored leaves on the metal branches. Which reminded Justin of the metal tree branches with mirrored leaves that they'd used for the wedding. That were still attached to the walls out in the reception area. Eventually they'd get to it. Claire and her brood had opted for a pair of sconces made of metal that Justin decided would look perfect on either side of their bed as they had a faint Middle Eastern cast to them. Contrary to expectations, Rennie hadn't given them some strange work of art or a black crucifix but instead had opted for a string of beautiful lights with gold shades and beads that they could hang from the pergola like their own personal stars.

But the most surprising—and heavy—gift came from Dr. Drew. It was a marble bust of Michelangelo's David. Sitting it on top of the table, Justin studied the stone carving and then compared it to his living, breathing spouse. "You really do look like him," he said. "Except for the hair." More than one person had commented on that during their trip to Florence last year. It was amazing the number of people who had crowded around Brian, looking at him instead of Michelangelo's masterpiece. "So," he said as he surveyed their haul, "I guess we should make sure to send out thank you notes."

"Yes, Miss Manners," smirked Brian.

Justin wadded up a bit of wrapping paper and flung it at him.

In retaliation, Brian reached into his box of love tokens and tossed one over to his husband.

Reading it, Justin snickered and began to unbutton his jeans. 

 

Neither one of them wanted to leave the house but Monday morning had come and it was time to return to the world. Since Spring Break was coming up in a couple of weeks anyway, they'd decided to push their honeymoon back until then so that Justin wouldn't miss any classes. But they hadn't taken into consideration how difficult it would be to leave home after having spent their first weekend together as married partners.

Justin leaning against the side of the Cherokee, Brian pressed against him, they made plans for dinner between kisses.

"I kinda have a taste for lobster," said Justin, smiling shyly as they'd just spent a fortune on the house and the wedding. By all rights, they should have been dining on bologna for a very long time.

"Go out or stay in?"

"I'll pick up two on the way home."

"Deal." Final kiss. "Later."

"Later." Watching Brian stride over to the Jeep, Justin remained where he was, a silly grin on his face, only getting inside his own car once Brian had started down the driveway, waving as he pulled out of the yard.

The silly grin lingered about his lips as he settled down for an hour of art history. Rennie and Xavier came in a few minutes later and feigned surprise at seeing him.

"Would have thought you'd be home spending quality time with your hubby," teased Rennie.

"He had to go to work," Justin told her. "Besides," he added, "he needed a break from fucking."

Xavier laughed. "That's a first." 

 

"Did you like our presents?" asked Rennie at lunch. They'd decided to stay on campus and eat in the cafeteria, something none of them relished but it was food and it was hot.

"They were awesome. Thanks, guys."

Rennie smiled. "Brian looked so hot." Then, "You didn't look too bad either, Prep Boy."

"What a ringing endorsement." Rolled his eyes. "So, did you and Trey have a good weekend?"

"Most excellent," replied Xavier, sticking his tongue out. "He really, really missed me."

"I bet."

 _"It's getting hot in here/ so take off all your clothes…"_ sang Xavier.

"Ewww. I do not want to know about your sex life," said Rennie. "So, Prep Boy, how many times did you and Brian do it?"

Justin laughed. "I'll bring you the videotape. It'll last longer." 

As he'd hoped, the Jeep was in the yard when he got home with the lobsters. Nearly running to the house, he found Brian in the kitchen standing over a pot of boiling water. Dropped the bag of crustaceans in the sink for the time being while he and Brian kissed hello. "You're home really early."

"Missed you." Brian kissed Justin's neck while unbuttoning his jeans.

"What about the lobsters?"

"Give 'em a few more minutes to live." And they laughed as they stumbled towards the family room. 

 

Cuddled up in their bed, they fed the last of the lobster to one another, sharing butter kisses in the process. Leo watched from the foot of the bed, the fish smell curiously inviting but as he'd never had seafood, he wasn't quite sure what to make of it and Justin refused to give him any saying it'd probably give him diarrhea or something, just the thought of which was enough to keep Brian from sharing. Besides, the lobster was delicious and they didn't want to waste one bite.

When it was all gone, they lay in bed, not wanting to move but they eventually did, taking their dirty plates downstairs and cleaning up a bit before returning to their suite and burrowing beneath the covers. It was cold so they'd turned on the fireplace upstairs and built a fire in the downstairs fireplace. Jenn had been right about it. When it was on, they hardly had to use the furnace. Especially since they weren't occupying many of the rooms anyway.

"I could hardly concentrate today," Justin told Brian. "I kept thinking about the wedding… about you…"

"I was in a meeting and I think Ryder had to say my name three times before I actually heard him." He laughed. "When is Spring Break again?"

"Two weeks."

"So far away."

Justin concurred. "I can't wait until next Friday." Then asked, "You're sure you're going to have the whole week off?"

"Everything's set. Trust me, Ryder knows better than to fuck with my honeymoon. Plus, it'll be the last time we have any peace and quiet before the renovations start."

"But it'll be so worth it though when they're finished." Visions of bathing by moonlight danced in his head. Along with visions of him and Brian frolicking in their new shower.

"Better be for the money we're paying them," groused Brian but Justin knew it was just a put-on. Brian had been the most excited about redoing the bathroom. He wasn't very fond of it right now. Too frilly. Still, he and Justin had managed to have a very nice honeymoon night bath in the tub. Very nice. He could still hear Justin moaning as he'd jacked him off. Which was definitely giving him ideas… 

 

Justin bopping around him, Brian swayed to the music and tried to keep up with his partner who was well on his way to dancing the night away. They'd been out on the floor for twenty minutes and Justin was showing no signs of slowing down. Granted, it had been a while since they'd gone out dancing and they had a lot of catching up to do. Still, Brian wasn't sure if he could keep up with the coed. Just as the current song segued into the next, he was about to suggest they take a break when he recognized the beat: The Crystal Method. "Busy Child". No way would Justin sit out that one, he loved that song. Sure enough, he grinned and began bouncing. Luckily, Brian spotted Em out of the corner of his eye. Grabbed his arm.

"Here. Keep him company." Kissed Justin and headed for the bar.

 _"I guess I didn't know.  
I guess I didn't know.   
Get Busy Child.   
Get Busy Child.   
Get Busy Child…"_ 2

"Beam, single," he told the bartender. His and Justin's previous attempt at partying half the night had resulted in him having to wear dark glasses to work and Justin puking in the toilet way too early in the morning. Granted they didn't have anywhere to go tomorrow morning (or the next nine mornings) but he didn't intend on spending it hugging the porcelain. Better things to do. Like lying in bed. And fucking. A whole week ahead of them with nothing to do but whatever they wanted. Oh yeah.

"Bet he's thinking about fucking," said Mikey as he and Jeff sauntered up to the bar.

Brian clicked his tongue. "Bingo."

"Where is the Boy Wonder?"

He pointed to the dance floor although Justin and Em were lost in the crowd.

"Couldn't keep up?" asked Jeff.

"Don't even try." He lifted his glass of Beam. "He knows where to find me."

Meanwhile, Em had hit the wall too. When the next song came on, he bowed out and went in search of refreshment. Met up with Brian and Jeff and Mikey at the bar.

"Where's Justin?" Brian asked.

"Still out there. He never gets tired."

"Tell me about it," said Brian. He'd been happy to go back to work after the wedding if only to get a break from the nonstop fucking. And talking. And planning. Justin never slowed down.

His preferred partner having abandoned him and the backup having jumped ship as well, Justin continued dancing on his own, figuring Brian would eventually rejoin him. Smiling at the thought of his husband pushing through the crowds, trying to find him, Justin didn't see the guy approaching until he was right up on him. Which startled him.

"Sorry," the guy said. "Wanna dance?"

"Sure." No harm in dancing. And the guy definitely had some good moves. Still, he preferred dancing with Brian. There was something cute about the way Brian would scooch down to look into his eyes even though it was a major pain for him to do so. Brian said he did it cause he loved Justin's eyes. Although he was enjoying himself dancing and thinking about Brian, Justin couldn't help but notice that his dance partner had moved in way too close and that his hands kept straying to his ass. Stepping back, he smiled. The guy moved closer. Justin paused and said, "I'm in a relationship."

The guy grinned. "So?"

"So," said Justin, "I'm only interested in dancing."

"So you say."

"So this says," Justin told him, holding up his ring. "I'm married."

"That's nice." The guy grabbed for him but Justin avoided his grip.

"Okay, dance over." Started to walk away but the man wasn't having it and managed to catch hold of his arm. Rather than make a big scene, Justin asked him, "Do you know who Brian Kinney is?"

"Yeah." Everyone knew who Kinney was.

"Well, I'm Justin Taylor-Kinney," Justin said and flashed the ring again.

"You're the guy Kinney hooked up with?"

"Uh-huh." The guy backed away, hands up, and disappeared in the crowd. Justin shook his head and chuckled. Ordinarily it would have pissed him off that he had to invoke Brian's name to get rid of some asshole but they were married now so it was different. Going in search of Brian, Justin decided he'd keep that little episode to himself. Knowing Brian, he'd demand to know who the guy was so that he could go after him and kick his scrawny ass. Not that Brian was brawny but anger had a way of transforming him into someone nobody wanted to fuck with… 

 

But that Justin definitely wanted to fuck. Brian grunted as Justin bounced on top of him, riding his dick and jacking off at the same time, precum shiny, dripping over the edge of his cockhead. Sitting down upon Brian's erection, taking it all the way inside his ass, Justin tugged on his own cock, beating it until the shaft was rigid and his pisshole gaped open, spilling sticky juice onto his fist. As he pumped his dick, he fucked Brian's with his ass, squeezing him until his partner shouted and shot a load up him. When Brian was done, Justin rose up off him and moved up his body, knelt over his head, and squatted until he could feel Brian's tongue against his hole.

Holding Justin by his thighs, Brian ate him out, spooge oozing over his face, while his little boy jerked above him. When he'd eaten his fill of ass, he reached up and drew down Justin's cock, sucked it until Justin cried out and came, cum spraying his throat. 

 

Sitting back against the lower kitchen cabinets, Brian asked, "How many are left?"

"Let's see," said Justin, "the back stairs, the guest room, Gus' bathroom, Gus' room, the gallery, the front stairwell, the living room, the dining room, the downstairs bathroom, the upstairs hallway, and the conservatory. Oh, and the two closets downstairs."

"So we've done our room, our bathroom, the walk-in closet, my office, the library, the sitting room upstairs, the family room, and now the kitchen."

It was Wednesday and they'd already gotten through a third of the places in their house where they could fuck. They'd just finished in the kitchen, Brian having gotten the urge to copulate while watching Justin fix lunch. When the young chef had bent over to place the roasting pan in the oven, Brian's libido had flared up and he'd grabbed Justin and bent him over right at the kitchen island. Luckily, they kept a bottle of olive oil on the counter. Brian had massaged it into and around Justin's hole and slipped inside him with no more than the usual resistance. Fucked him hard and fast, Justin's load splattering the island cabinetry. Afterwards they had collapsed on the floor, entangled in their clothes.

Raising his face for a kiss, Justin said, "We smell like focaccia." Lifted and sniffed his shirt. "So does this."

"Why do we even bother getting dressed?" asked Brian.

"Propriety's sake?"

"Fuck it." He stood and held out his hand. Pulled Justin to his feet.

Correctly deciphering the look on his face, he asked, "Where?"

With a grin. "Surprise."

As Brian tugged on him, he grabbed the bottle of olive oil. Just in case. Good thing the chicken had another hour and a half in the oven. 

 

That evening, having decided that going mostly naked was a lot more expedient than dressing and undressing all the time, they lounged around in their robes and went through their wedding pictures. Just last week they'd finally finished putting away all of the decorations from the wedding. Justin had insisted on keeping every flower, every light in a box marked "Wedding". The topper from their cake was safely stored away in the freezer awaiting their first anniversary.

Although they hadn't videotaped or photographed the wedding itself, not wanting to taint the ceremony, Jase had taken some beautiful formal pictures afterwards. And most of the guests had brought their own cameras and snapped away during the reception so they were sure to get a few more photographs in the weeks to come. But, for now, they poured over the ones they had.

Holding up a picture of the two of them standing by the French doors to the conservatory, the lit candelabra to one side, Justin said, "We looked amazing."

"Hottest grooms ever."

Lips curved in a soft smile, Justin added, "That was the best day of my life."

"Only get better," promised Brian.

"Need to get an album for these," Justin said and began putting them away in their envelopes.

"Maybe we'll make it out of the house tomorrow." Then, as Justin climbed over onto his lap and kissed him, Brian mumbled, "Or Friday." Another kiss. "Saturday." 

 

It had taken all of their strength to shower, dress, and drive to the mall. Now, Brian wondered if he'd have the fortitude to look at the plethora of photo albums Justin paraded in front of him to get his opinion. Silently he thanked Deb and Vic for their present as it eliminated the need to buy a frame for their wedding picture. Justin had loved the frame they'd bought them so they would use it to display their favorite shot from the wedding. Of course, that didn't stop him from looking at other frames just for the heck of it. Which necessitated Brian practicing all of his relaxation techniques to keep his temper. Wouldn't do for the newlyweds to start yelling at one another in the middle of the mall. In the end Justin chose a wedding album made of acid-free handmade paper that included a keepsake envelope and memory pages. The cover had a white rose on it and a gold heart and Justin loved it. Brian would have preferred something less frilly like the Kate Spade nylon album or a leather covered album but he figured he'd only have to look at the album every single time someone came over and wanted to see their wedding pictures, and whenever Justin was feeling sentimental, and on their anniversary, and…

Shutting his eyes, he tried to think of happier—photo-free—times. 

 

"Daddy!"

He heard Gus' voice before he spotted the little boy running away from his mommies. Squatting, Brian opened his arms and swooped Gus up in a big hug. "How's my Sonny Boy?"

Gus laughed and kissed Brian, then waved at Justin who leaned in for a kiss as well.

Having caught up with them, Lindz and Mel hugged the two men. "So," Lindsay asked, "how's married life treating you?"

"How do I look?" asked Brian.

"Exhausted," said Mel.

"Then it's treating me extra well," he bragged. Gus tugged on his hair. "Yes?"

"I want to see kit cat."

"You want to see Leo?"

"Yeah."

Lindsay told them, "He's been wanting to visit you for the past three weeks."

Blushing slightly, Justin said, "We've been kind of busy."

"We figured." She reached for Gus.

"No!" he yelled and he wrapped his arms around Brian's neck. "I want go with Daddy." It was the weekend and that meant staying with Daddy.

Lindz tried to explain. "Gus, Daddy and Daddy Justin need some time alone. You can go visit them next week."

"Now," he pouted.

Used to being the no-nonsense one, Mel reached for him. "We have to go, Gus. Come on."

He hugged Brian tighter. Shook his head, eyes growing larger and shinier. Any moment the tears would start and he'd be on his way to a full-fledged hissy fit.

Not in the mood, Brian made an executive decision. "You can come see Leo and then we're taking you home. Tonight. Deal?"

" 'kay."

"Sucker," teased Mel. 

 

An hour later while Gus and Leo tore around the house like a couple of maniacs to the sound of the stereo which Justin had cranked up so that he could hear it in the kitchen while he fixed lunch, Brian began to think that he had lost his mind. Retreating to his office on the second floor, he sat in the chaise lounge—the only piece of furniture in the room—and exhaled slowly. At some point he had to think about getting a desk in here and a couple of chairs but, for now, he liked the empty feel of it. Closing his eyes, he savored the silence.

For all of ten minutes and then Gus came running into the room, Justin not far behind him. "Lunch!" Gus shouted. He really got excited about meals. Pulled on Brian's arm trying to get him up. "Come on, Daddy!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

Justin grinned. "Music to my ears." 

 

Having taken Gus back to the Munchers, they'd returned home hot and horny. Justin wanted some cock and he wanted it bad. Stripping in record time, he tackled Brian to the bed and practically ripped his clothes off, then kissed him deeply as he stroked his dick. The moment he felt Brian's cock begin to stiffen, he pulled away from his mouth and latched onto his meat.

Brian closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing as Justin sucked him. He seemed famished, barely letting Brian out of his mouth for the next fifteen minutes, lashing him with his tongue in between nibbling on the head, licking the slit, sucking his balls, and deep-throating his cock. Arching his back, Brian groaned, grabbing and holding onto the sheets as Justin tightened his lips around the head and sucked it so hard Brian thought he would scream. "Justin, Justi—Justin. Oh. Oh… oh." He ran his fingers through Justin's hair and bit his lip. His cock slipped from Justin's mouth and he risked a glance. Precum bubbled from the tip. He watched as Justin flicked it away with his tongue. More appeared and Justin lapped that up as well. Then, just as his slit opened, Justin closed his teeth about one half of his cockhead. Applied the gentlest of pressure but it was enough to make Brian shout. "Fuck!" He rose up then slumped back onto the bed, dick throbbing, body trembling. Covered his face with his arm as Justin continued to go down on him.

Justin held his cock down against his belly and sucked his balls while Brian whimpered and swallowed cry after cry. "Baby—Baby… Oh. Oh…" Gritted his teeth as Justin ran his tongue up and down the center of his sac. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes and he was glad he was lying down and not standing up as he didn't think he had the strength in his legs to keep him upright if he had been. Precum wet his belly as his cock continued to weep while Justin mauled his balls. The tendons in his legs were tensed, tight as steel. His pubes were wet with Justin's saliva. His asshole had begun to spasm. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out.

Although his jaw and neck were fatigued, he wasn't about to end his feast. He couldn't remember when he'd blown Brian like this before and he was enjoying every moment of it. His own cock was quite hard, already dripping, already wanting to slide up Brian's ass but he didn't want to stop what he was doing and he knew Brian didn’t want him to stop. Still, his dick was hungry and he knew if he didn't satisfy it, he'd never be able to finish what he'd started. Reaching for the lube, he oiled his cock and raised Brian's legs, eased his dick up his hole and began fucking him.

Brian pressed down on his cock, not wanting to come yet, wanting Justin to blow his wad and then continue sucking him off. Still, he did enjoy having his ass reamed. Justin was ravishing his hole and he loved it. Pumping as hard and fast as he could, Justin suddenly shuddered and came. He rested a moment, then joined Brian on the bed, head to groin, and resumed his sucking.

Spawled on the bed, cum seeping from his hole, Brian bit his lip to keep from moaning. His dick felt a foot long and at least three inches across. His balls were rock solid and ached. The head of his cock bumped into the roof of Justin's mouth and Brian gave a shout. His buttocks tightened and he jerked as cum flew from the tip of his dick. Giving a long, ragged, "Ah…" he rode out his orgasm until the last few drops of jizz wet Justin's tongue. He shivered as Justin licked him clean and kissed the head. Kissed it again.

Turning around, Justin snuggled up against Brian, his hand wrapped around his lover's cock. Kissed his chest. "That was great."

Brian closed his eyes. Great didn't even begin to come close. 

 

As if it wasn't enough that it was going to take almost six weeks for the contractors to finish the renovations to the bathrooms, Justin wanted to add insult to injury by tackling the dining and living rooms.

"I don't know why this can't wait," Brian said, knocking back the last of his coffee. He was limiting himself to three cups a day and it was hard. Espying a dram still left in the cup, he drank that as well, feeling slightly foolish but a bit more satisfied all the same.

"Because I'm sick of looking at two gigantic empty rooms every time I come inside the house," Justin explained. "Besides," he added, "if we do it now, we'll be done."

"Still have the guest room to do," Brian reminded him.

"Yeah, but that's minor compared to the living room and the dining room."

"Justin—"

"If it's money, and you think we can't afford it, then we don't have to do it right now."

Brian wished he had another cup of coffee to fortify him. "It's not the money. It's…"

"It's what?"

"The aggravation," he wanted to say but even he had more tact that that. And more brains. "The time commitment. I'm really busy at work right now—"

"You're always busy at work."

"And what does that mean?"

"That you're always busy at work."

Swallowing a retort that was guaranteed to get him, at least, a day or two of silence, Brian rose, wiping his mouth. "I don't have time."

"To look for furniture, to continue this discussion, what?" asked Justin, unwilling to let go that easily. He followed Brian into the kitchen and waited while Brian rinsed their plates and loaded the dishwasher.

"Take your pick." Without looking to see what Justin's reaction was to his answer, Brian went out into the hallway and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. "See you later," he said and exited the house.

Left behind, Justin stared at the door, debating his next course of action. What he really wanted to do was to go outside and continue their discussion but he could see it degenerating into an argument and the last thing they needed was for the neighbors to think they were a couple of drama queens who were going to have daily shouting matches on the front lawn. But it burned. Brian had a way of ending conversations that made Justin want to choke him. If he didn't want to talk about something, he didn't. He just walked away and pretended that they were through discussing the issue. Even if he spent the next three hours thinking about it, he'd never let on that he'd given it another thought.

Leo rubbing up against his leg gradually brought Justin out of his black mood. There was no point in standing around getting angrier and angrier. Brian had gone to work and he needed to get to class. Going upstairs, he found something to wear, dressed, and used the toilet in Gus' bathroom since theirs was in a state of disarray, the contractors having begun gutting the room in preparation for redoing everything. Once they had the new partition wall erected, he and Xavier and Rennie planned on painting a small mural on the side facing the windows. Broken columns entwined with vines done in sepia tones. Brian's idea. And a good one. He had them when he put his mind to it. All over again, Justin got angry. Brian wanted the house to look fabulous and yet he didn't want to be bothered to get it looking that way. It's as if he thought it just happened by itself. He waved his hand and said, "Make it so," and it was accomplished. Well, it didn't work like that. Last time around he and Joanie had done a lot of the legwork and then Brian had come along and bestowed his blessings on this idea and that as if he were Caesar. Not this time. Even if they ended up yelling at each other over every stick of furniture in every fucking showroom this side of Philadelphia, they were going to do this together. Fuck him.

It was with this thought in mind that he arrived at school. Intending to stop by his studio, he ran into Rennie and she whistled. "So what'd he do this time?" she asked, having heard about his and Brian's monumental battles on more than one occasion.

"Nothing." He didn't want to talk about it, especially with Rennie who would run immediately to Xavier and tell him everything. Not that he really cared except that he didn't want them to think that he and Brian were already having problems only a month into their marriage. Justin paused. Fuck. This Saturday was their one month anniversary. And here they were acting like a couple of total assholes. Well, Brian was. He felt completely justified in asking Brian to help with decorating the rest of the house. Only, maybe he could have handled it better.

Shit. 

 

Cynthia brought in his appointment book. "So how are the happy newlyweds?" she asked and then regretting saying anything. Face black as the sky before an impending tornado, he looked about ready to demolish anything and anyone in his path. And she was the only thing in his path at the moment.

Not answering her question, he removed his sterling silver case from his jacket pocket, took out a cigarette, and lit it.

"Uh-oh," she intoned and then backed out of the office and shut the door.

Smoke curling above his head, some of the tension went out of his neck and shoulders. Christ, he'd been angry with Justin. Still was, if he'd only admit it. And for what? Because Justin wanted to finish decorating the house? What the fuck…? Sometimes he had no idea what pushed his buttons and why. Sometimes his anger surprised even him. Granted he was busy at work right now but Justin had been quite correct in saying that he was always busy. So why had it made him so angry, furious enough that he'd left without even giving Justin a kiss, something that he'd never failed to do since they'd gotten married. One month and they were already having knock-down, drag-out fights about nothing. Fuck… This Saturday was their one-month anniversary. The perfect opportunity to make-up because he already regretted his actions and his hasty words. But he'd felt the anger radiating from Justin like a white hot heat at his back and he knew it'd take more than an apology to set things right between them. Or a bouquet of flowers, or a romantic dinner for two. It'd take some major crow-eating and, beyond that, a huge gesture on his part, something that said he was willing to meet Justin halfway.

Putting out his cigarette, he dialed Cynthia's extension.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Do I have anything pressing this morning?"

"Wayfarer team progress report."

They were on-schedule with their campaign so that could be pushed back. "Can you get them on the calendar for tomorrow?"

"Will do. Want me to keep this afternoon clear too?"

"Do it." So, technically, barring any unforeseen emergencies, he had the entire day free. Getting an outside line, he called his mom next and, after the shock wore off at his request, she supplied him with the information he needed. "Thanks, Mom."

"You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Nope. Later." With the necessary information in hand, he gave Cynthia instructions to hold all of his calls, cut off his cell, and settled down for a long morning. 

 

By lunch time Justin had calmed down enough to laugh with Xavier and Rennie about his Drama Princess moment this morning.

"Good to know some things haven't changed," said Xavier.

"What? That Brian and I still argue?"

"That no matter how much you argue, two hours later you're ready to make-up."

"You've never made-up with him," he said with a raised brow.

Rennie sighed. "Yeah, but he got to fuck him. How come everybody's slept with Brian but me?"

"Cause he's not into pussy," replied Justin, trying not to think about mess he and Brian and Xavier had made of their lives—temporarily. Risking a glance at Xavier, he saw that his friend was grinning at Rennie, not letting it get him down. Neither would he.

"Well," said Rennie, "he fucked Lindsay, didn't he?"

"In college. A million years ago." He grinned. "Sorry, Rennie, but Brian's bisexual days are over. And the Pity Fuck Shop is closed. Permanently."

She pushed him, laughing. "Shut. Up." Then she thought. "I bet he'd do it. If you'd let him."

"Go find your own stud. He's mine."

"Greedy."

He nodded. "Absolutely. He's only got enough cock for me."

She looked inquiringly at Xavier and he threw up his hands. "Don't look at me. I'm not fucking you." But he and Justin knew what she was really asking and he had no intention of telling her that Brian had enough cock for all of them. And then some. 

 

He waited until Brian had slipped his arms around him to breathe easier. Twisted his head and joined him in a kiss that lasted no few seconds. When they parted, he said, "I'm—"

"No apologies. No regrets," said Brian.

"That's a great sound bite but it doesn't work too well in real life," Justin told him. "So, I'm sorry." He ran his thumb over his face. Kissed him again beside his mouth.

"Me too," whispered Brian. Then he checked out dinner. Chicken quesadillas. "Sweet." Taking off his jacket, he draped it on the back of one of the chairs at the table before setting it. Leo jumped up in the chair and began to sniff around. "Do not get cat hair on my jacket," Brian ordered even though he knew he'd end up with the lint brush in hand trying to remove Leo's fur from the collar.

Bringing out dinner, Justin paused. "What's that?" he asked as there were piles of papers on the table at the end opposite their plates.

"Furniture." He waited until Justin had put down the food. "For the living and dining rooms."

Unwilling to let himself feel euphoric until he had the entire story, Justin asked, "Did your mom do this?"

"I called her, got the addresses of some web sites, and then I spent all fuckin' day looking at furniture and fabric and lights and shit." He picked up their plates and served them. "So sit down and eat so we can get started picking out something."

A broad smile illuminating his face, Justin sat down and poured the wine. Stared at his partner.

"I said eat." Brian cut his eyes at him and took a sip of wine.

"I love you, Pookie."

"Asshole." Then smiled reluctantly.

In the end, they spread the papers over the table and ate around them, looking at the printouts as they devoured their meal.

"I like this."

"You would," Brian said as Justin was looking at one of the dining chair options and the florid fabric that the sample picture used.

"What's wrong with it?"

"I fucking hate that fabric."

"We don't have to get that fabric. We can pick out our own." Not wanting to get into that discussion right away, Justin asked, "What about the chair?"

He shrugged.

"Brian."

"Okay, I'm not—it's not what I'd pick." It was a very ornate French reproduction, Louis whatever. He'd only printed it out because he'd known, instinctively, that it was something Justin would like. He had visions of them sitting down to a meal at Versailles. Good grief.

"So what would you like?"

"Something simpler."

"How simple?"

He pulled out a picture of a very simple dining chair, Italian, of course, clean lines, in a neutral colored fabric.

Justin examined it without much enthusiasm. "It's nice but…"

"But what?"

"But it looks like the furniture you had in the loft."

"So?" said Brian, a little stung because he'd liked the furniture in the loft.

"Well, you sold the furniture in the loft because you said it wouldn't fit with the house so why would we go out and buy a dining suite that looks just like the stuff you sold in the first place?"

"Fine." God, he hated it when Justin was right about something that he should have seen for himself in the first place.

"We need something a lot more formal."

"We have to fucking eat in there. I can't eat in that chair," he said, pointing to the one Justin had picked out.

"It's not like we'd eat there every day. It's only for special occasions."

"So why spend thousands of dollars for a table and some chairs?"

"For the times when we do need it. You might have company functions or something and we'd need a formal dining room."

"Formal is fine, just not—frou frou."

Sighing loudly, Justin said, "Too bad we can't get Michael Payne."

"Who's that?"

"The guy from 'Designing for the Sexes.' "

"We're the same sex or haven't you noticed?"

Justin popped his hand. "Stop being such a grouch."

Sipping the last of his wine, Brian said, "We definitely need Joanie." Before they killed one another.

After cleaning up, they retired to their suite and Brian marveled that they'd ever gotten it done even though the process had been slightly different. After having spent the day doing grunt work, he appreciated the effort Justin and Joanie had gone through with the rest of the house, especially in this room. Embracing him, he kissed Justin gently.

"What was that?"

Teasing, Brian replied, "Foreplay." 

 

Justin came home with Gus to find Brian grilling salmon in the kitchen. He'd gotten off a little early from work to come home and cook. Although Justin fixed most of their meals, every now and then Brian put on the apron and did KP duty, if only to give Justin a break. He wasn't a terrible cook, just not very imaginative. But, with Justin's cookbooks in hand, he could follow a basic recipe as well as anyone else and managed to turn out a number of simple yet tasty meals. He was especially good with grilling. Justin couldn't wait until they had their first barbecue. Totally suburban.

Having called to Leo first, Gus ran into the kitchen to find his daddy and give him a big hug.

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Daddy?"

"What?"

"See?" He showed Brian a seashell he'd painted at school. It was bright purple and orange and yellow and red, all of Gus' favorite colors.

"That's beautiful."

"Here." He handed it to Brian and signaled to be let down.

"You mean I can have this?"

"Yeah." Gus looked around to see Leo coming. "Hey, Leo. Hey." The cat purred as Gus stooped to rub him and then the two of them ran into the other room, the kitten as glad to see Gus as the toddler was to see him.

Kissing Justin, Brian studied the shell. "Well, where should we put this masterpiece of postmodern art?"

"Mantel," replied Justin, taking it from him and carrying it into the other room. It was as good a place as any until they bought something especially to display the little boy's creative endeavors. "You talk to your mom?" he asked as he returned to the kitchen with a bottle of white wine in hand and took a seat at the island.

"Said she'd come over Sunday after Mass. Guess what?" Brian rummaged in the drawer for the corkscrew and handed it to Justin.

"What?" He looked around to see if Gus and Leo were still in the family room. They were, playing on the floor with Leo's catnip ball.

"She registered to take classes at the community college."

"No shit." He opened the wine, then took the two glasses Brian gave him and poured some for both of them. Sipped it. Delicious.

"They've got this two-year program in Art. She can take classes there and then transfer to a university that has an interior design program." Brian tasted the wine. Good choice. It'd pair perfectly with the fish.

"She's really serious about this."

"Well, she says it's the only way she'll be able to learn enough to get a license so why not." He removed the salmon from the grill. "They've got an accredited program at LaRoche so she oughta feel right at home," he said since LaRoche was a Catholic college.

"Gus!" called Justin and the little boy came running. "Let's wash your hands, we're eating in a minute." He held Gus up to the sink and watched as he went through the motions. He'd become an expert at cleaning up. "Good boy." Taking down Gus' plastic tumbler, Justin handed it to the toddler to carry to the table. After putting out the dishes and glasses, and wine and water, he lifted Gus into his booster seat on one side of the table, then took his seat on the opposite side. Brian usually sat at the head when Gus visited as the little boy insisted on sitting next to his daddy. It tickled Justin that no matter how much Gus loved him and called him Daddy, he was still closer to Brian in many ways. Probably because Brian was his age emotionally. Smiling at his secret dig, he didn't see Brian come up next to him.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm." Brian served the salmon and steamed green beans and watched Gus spear a bean and eat it eagerly. He loved them. However, as much as he loved green beans, he loved to talk even more and launched into a long and convoluted story about school that, Brian supposed, had something to do with the seashell he'd brought him. Plus, he also began to sing them a song he'd learned although he seemingly hadn't quite mastered either the tune or the words one as they didn't quite fit together. At least he hoped the song wasn't supposed to sound like that. "Gus—Gus, eat your food first and then you can sing a song for us, okay?"

"Daddy, I—I—"

"Eat first. Okay?"

Resigned to wait, Gus replied, "Okay." Then turned his attention back to his beans.

Justin chuckled. "Stay of execution."

"Tell me about it," Brian grumbled.

"You know," Justin ventured, not certain how Brian would take his comment, "you should let him talk when he wants to. You don't want to stifle him. Kids should be able to tell their parents about their day."

"It's not like I don't talk to him after dinner."

"I know but—"

"Besides, he's two-and-a-half-years-old. He can barely walk and eat at the same time, much less talk and eat."

As with their discussion about furniture, Justin recognized what Brian was doing: ignoring him and his concerns and it pissed him off just as much now as it did the other morning. "Fine," he said shortly and concentrated on finishing his food.

Later, after they cleaned up, Gus did sing his song for his daddies and Leo, startling the cat with his enthusiasm. Touching the parts of his body named in the lyrics, he sang, _"Head, shoulders, nee and toes, nee and toes."_ Got a little mixed up in his parts but persevered. _"Head, shoulders, nee and toes, nee, toe."_ Took a deep breath, and continued his song, _"Eyes and ears…"_ thought about it, _"mouth and nose."_ Another breath. _"Head, shoulders, nee and toes!"_ 3 Jumping up and down, he clapped for himself even as his dads did too, laughing all the while.

"That was great," Justin told him as Gus came to him and buried his face in his shirt. Raised him up and kissed him. "Wasn't that great?" he asked Brian.

"Oh yeah, the Fourth Tenor," earning him a shove.

That night they took a communal bath in Gus' new tub. Since all they'd had to do was to remove one freestanding tub and install another, the contractors had finished that job earlier in the week. Brian and Justin showed Gus the new tub and he watched, his eyes growing bigger, as they filled it. There was something soothing yet exciting about the perfectly round tub. Then, dropping off their clothes, they all three got in and washed, Gus splattering them (and the floor) with water until Brian warned him to stop. Justin found Gus' rubber ducky and sang as he danced the toy across the surface of the water.

 _"Rubber ducky, you're the one./ You make bath time lots of fun./ Rubber ducky, I'm awfully fond of you./ Woo woo be do."_ 4 Gus loved it, having seen Ernie sing it many times on TV and even tried to do the Ernie laugh which Justin did much better causing the toddler to giggle uncontrollably. Brian merely shook his head and tried to enjoy the water before it got cold or Gus peed in it. "Come on," Justin said to him, "sing something."

"I don't know any songs about rubbers," he replied.

"Come on, sing something," begged Justin and Brian got a thoughtful look on his face. There was a song that he did remember from "Sesame Street".

_"We all live in a capital I  
in the middle of the desert   
in the center of the sky._

_"All day long we polish up the I  
to make it clean and shiny   
so it brightens up the sky."_

He picked up Gus and scrubbed his back and hair as he sang.

_"Rubbing it here  
and scrubbing it there.   
Polishing the I   
so high in the air._

_"And as we work we sing a lively tune  
'It is great to be so happy on a busy afternoon.'   
And when we're through with the day's only chore,   
we go into the I   
and we close the door._

_"Capital I, capital I, capital I, capital I…"_ 5

Having finished, he held Gus in his arms, suddenly saddened by the song as he had always been as a child. He didn't understand why, maybe it was the music, maybe it was the vision of the capital I standing stark against the sky, but whatever it was, it never failed to make him feel a little melancholy, a little wistful.

Justin said nothing, only moved a little closer to Brian and Gus. 

With Gus and Leo tucked away in bed, Justin having read The Berenstain Bears Say Goodnight to him, the grown-ups retired to their suite.

The television on to CNN, Brian sat up in bed as Justin finished putting away his clothes and joined him. Turning it off, he said, "You were pretty pissed with me at dinner. The other morning too," he added before Justin could protest.

"Brian—"

"I know that I can be shitty sometimes and I'm sorry."

"It's like you don’t hear me."

"I do hear you."

"Then you don't listen," said Justin.

"Sometimes I don't," he admitted. "Not right away. Sometimes I need a while."

"It makes me feel like you don't value my opinion."

"Not true."

"It's how I feel." But he didn't say anything else about it. There was nothing left to say. They were at an impasse. Brian could promise him that he'd try to do better but only time would tell if he truly would. So there was nothing to do but wait. Meanwhile, he had other things on his mind. "That was a really beautiful song."

"You've never heard it before?"

"They must have stopped playing it on 'Sesame Street' by the time I came along."

Brian plucked at the comforter ignoring the dig. "For some reason, it always made me feel… lonely."

"Were you?"

He shrugged. "Until Mikey came along."

"I was lucky," Justin said. "I've always had Daphne. Sometimes I wanted to clobber her," he laughed, "but I was always glad she was there. And then Molly was born, a lot later but…"

"Lindsay's thinking about having another kid."

Justin became instantly alert. "And?"

"And… nothing. We haven't really talked about it." This to smooth any potentially ruffled feathers over not having been consulted. "She just mentioned the possibility. Before the wedding."

"What do you think?"

"I think we have our hands full with Gus." He smiled thinking of all the things the little boy managed to get into in a day. "But I worry that maybe he's lonely too."

"He's only two-and-a-half. I don’t think he gets lonely."

"Maybe. Not yet. But he might, later on. If she had another kid now…"

"You really want to?"

"I don't know." Readjusted his pillow. "What do you think?"

Justin paused before answering. "It's a lot to think about. We just got married, just moved…" Shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well, luckily, we don't have to decide tonight. And, who knows, Melanie might not be ready for another kid. Lindz either. I think she was just throwing the idea out there. Weddings bring out her maternal instinct." He cut out the lamp on his side and burrowed into the covers. After a moment, Justin did the same.

"Might be nice, having a little girl."

"What the fuck would we do with a girl?"

"Same things we do with Gus."

"Jesus, aren't there enough dykes in that house already?"

Justin pinched him. "She could be tough and still be straight. Look at Rennie."

"Okay, now you're scaring me."

"Or we might have another little boy." He moved closer to Brian and propped himself up on his husband. "What if we had two little boys and one was straight and one was gay?"

"It happens."

"You think Gus is going to be gay?"

"Too early to tell."

"Deb said she knew Michael was gay when he came out the womb."

"That's cause he was singing show tunes."

"That was Emmett," laughed Justin. "It wouldn't be too bad. Having another child. Would it?"

"Guess not." Then he turned to Justin. "Although…"

"What?"

"I kinda thought our next child would be yours."

"Well, Daphne's definitely not ready to have a child."

"What about you and Lindz?"

Even though it'd be by turkey baster, it still made him feel weird. "She's like twelve years older than me."

"So am I."

"It's not the same thing." He paused. "Besides… I don't think I'm ready to have a child."

"You already have one."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Gus is your son."

Brian turned over onto his back and pulled the covers up to his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… It's a big responsibility and I don't know if I'm ready for that."

"Yeah." About to settle down to sleep, he rolled onto his side and felt a hand brush against his hip, fingers gently gripping his thigh. A kiss between his shoulders. And then the fingers moved to his groin and encircled his cock. Began to stroke him. He could feel Justin pressing against him, feel him hardening.

"I want you," the young man whispered at his back, rubbing his cock against his ass. Justin released him and climbed on top of him. Holding onto the headboard, he moaned low in his throat as Brian sucked him hungrily, wanting to get him hard fast so they could fuck right away.

As he blew Justin, he stroked his own cock and fingered his hole. He couldn't wait to feel Justin throbbing inside him.

Pulling away, dick rigid and leaking, Justin lay back down behind his lover and lubed his cock.

Brian inhaled sharply as Justin pushed into him and exhaled slowly while he filled him with his thick meat. He loved the way Justin penetrated him at a stately pace so that he felt every hard inch of him going in. Loved the way he'd just as leisurely withdraw. In and out, over and over until he was good and relaxed.

With Brian's hole loosened up a bit, Justin began to thrust harder, jabbing his cock between his sweaty cheeks.

Moaning, Brian bit his lip. Christ, it felt so good. His dick bounced in front of him as Justin fucked him from behind, balls slapping against his ass.

After a few minutes, Justin rolled Brian onto his stomach, still joined, and continued pumping him. Brian's ass felt so good, so tight, so warm, so soft, so sweet. Rotating his hips, he corkscrewed Brian's hole until the man began to pant.

"Oh, Baby…" he moaned, and gave a drawn-out cry. Brian gripped the edge of the mattress, trying to ground himself as his body threatened to fly into a million pieces. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out. Justin's dick… He whimpered and clenched his teeth.

"Daddy?"

Instantly, everything stopped. Justin looked around, his eyes attempting to focus again. "Gus, what's wrong?" Gently, he backed out of Brian and drew the covers over them.

The little boy reached for Brian. "Daddy?"

Finding his voice somewhere deep in his belly, Brian said, "I'm okay. Daddy's…okay."

Luckily, Gus was still half asleep. After verifying that Brian was indeed all right, he laid his head upon his daddy's arm, barely awake.

Sliding from the bed, Brian carried him back to his room and tucked him in again, then returned to the master suite and shut the door. Collapsed next to Justin. "Shit," he groaned.

"Guess we should have closed the door."

"Mmm…"

Now that Gus was back in his room and the momentary crisis averted, Justin really wanted to finish what he'd started. He reached for Brian's cock and stroked it. Kissed his chest. "Wanna?"

"You up for it?" he asked and Justin placed his hand on his cock to let Brian feel how hard it was still. Turning onto his stomach, Brian waited. It wasn't long before Justin was back inside him, wildly fucking his ass. Burying his face in his pillow, Brian smothered his cries as his cock pulsed and he got closer to his orgasm. Dick sliding against the sheets, he humped the bed while Justin plowed his hole.

Cock hard as steel, Justin withdrew and then began to punch fuck Brian, sliding all the way out and then all the way in, Brian's asshole unrolling over his dick as he exited the soft opening.

Mouth open around his pillow, Brian shook as Justin started deep fucking him once more, dick buried in his ass and swelling, pushing forward, forward, always forward until Brian thought Justin's cock would end up in his belly. Balls tight against his shaft, Brian grunted and came, cum wetting the sheets below him. His asshole tightened around Justin, bringing him off as well, the younger man filling him with creamy jizz. 

 

They spent Saturday cleaning and playing with Gus and trying to figure out how they were going to celebrate their one-month anniversary with the toddler there, especially now that he'd discovered them mid-fuck the night before. They'd hoped that he'd forgotten, had chalked it up to a dream, but he had asked Brian at breakfast, "Why was you crying?"

"Were," Justin had said, automatically earning him a hard look from Brian. "Sorry," he'd whispered.

But Gus hadn't been distracted by the grammar lesson and had persisted with his question. "Daddy hurt?"

"I wasn't crying and I wasn't hurt," although his ass had still been tender that morning when they'd gotten up.

Now, with dinner fast approaching they made a quick decision: they'd feed Gus at his normal time, tire him out, put him to bed, and then have an intimate dinner for two out in the conservatory. With the intercom system fully functional, they could keep an eye on Gus remotely and also have a little more privacy and warning if he woke up as they always put up the security gates at the top of the stairs when he was asleep.

If Gus thought it was a little strange that his daddies only ate a little bit of food at dinner, he didn't dwell on it as they watched one of his favorite movies afterwards, Winnie-the-Pooh; and then they let him play with his toy boat in the fountain; and then he and Leo played hide-and-go-seek in the family room until he was ready to collapse. Barely able to stand, he let his daddy carry him upstairs and put on his pajamas. He was too sleepy even for a story and was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Brian smiled and kissed him on the forehead, then returned downstairs with a blanket in tow. Met Justin in the conservatory where he was setting the table. "Mission accomplished," and it was only nine thirty, plenty of time to celebrate. While Justin got the food from the kitchen, he snagged a cushion from the sectional and a bottle of red wine from the bar.

Toasting one another over candlelight, they leaned together and kissed.

"I can't believe it's been a month," said Justin.

"Feels like we've been in this house forever. Even with the renovations."

Justin looked around the almost empty conservatory. "This really was the perfect house for us."

"Jenn did good."

"So did you." He laughed. "My mom said you were flirting with the owner's wife and that's why we got it at such a good price."

"Your mom's hallucinating if she thinks eight hundred thousand dollars is a good price."

Justin paused with a piece of steak halfway to his mouth. "But it's worth it, isn't it?"

"Every penny."

"None of the other houses on the block seem as nice as ours."

Aware that he was treading dangerous waters, Brian asked, "Still want to have a meet and greet?"

"Maybe in the summer, when the weather's nicer. We can have a pool party or something. The next door neighbors seem okay and Rachel from down the street."

"Well, at least no one's spray painted 'faggots' on the house or the cars."

Laughing, Justin said, "I would never have believed that anyone would actually drive a car with 'faggot' written across the door. I mean, I know I said I didn't give a shit but…That was something else."

"I tried to get it on my license plates but they wouldn't do it."

"You're joking, right?" When Brian didn't own up to the joke, Justin shook his head. "Only you."

Later on as they had sex on the floor, Brian kneeling between his thighs and jacking him off as he fucked him, Justin was glad there was only one of him. And that he was his. 

 

He didn't quite feel that way when Joanie came over on Sunday with her swatches and sample books. Then, he was wishing with all of his might that somehow Brian might be transformed into someone a lot less contrary and annoying. They'd both gone online that morning and looked at furniture separately and collected a pile of printouts that best represented what they wanted in the living and dining rooms. And neither one of them, most of all Brian, was willing to compromise.

Or so it seemed.

"Now," said Joanie, "Justin, what do you see in the dining room?" Since the two rooms were only separated by three archways, the color schemes and styles would have to be complimentary, so she figured they might as well start in the smaller of the two spaces.

"I think we need something formal. Classic looking. Warm. Not," and he directed his comment at Brian, "something modern and cold."

"When you say classic, what do you mean?"

"Like Queen Anne or Louis XIV or something like that."

"Any choices for colors?"

"Something rich. Like maybe a deep wine or burgundy and maybe gold."

Jotting his answers down, she turned to Brian. "And what do you think about Justin's suggestions?"

"I don't think modern has to mean cold. And I don't want anything too ornate." He still had nightmares about Marie-Antoinette's salon in the Trianon.

"What about the colors?"

"The colors are okay."

"So, we can agree on a color scheme, at least. Now, we'll be using the same colors in the livingroom too. Is that okay with you?" she asked him.

"Yeah."

"Justin?"

"Fine with me." He couldn’t believe Brian had agreed to the colors that easily. Of course, getting him to agree about the furniture would be a lot harder.

Instead of immediately going about looking at furniture, Joanie asked them about the curtains and whether or not they wanted to wallpaper the walls or leave them as they were, having been done in an amber Italian plaster. Then, since Gus was waking up from his nap soon, she sat upstairs in their room and did a little work on Brian's laptop computer while they prepared lunch.

After they'd all finished eating, they gathered around the table and looked at her suggestions.

"Since this house is modeled after Italian villas, I thought something like this might work in your dining room. It's called a Tuscany armchair and it's more formal than contemporary furniture but it's not as ornate as some classic furniture. What do you think?"

Brian studied the picture. The chair had a curved back and the arms ended in a fiddle-headed fern shape but it still had relatively clean lines. "I like it."

Justin looked it over. He liked the carved legs and the silhouette of the curved back suggested something more ornate. One thing bothered him though. "I don't want leather on the chairs. It's too cold."

"We can put some other kind of fabric on them. I would suggest a chenille, maybe a jacquard pattern. Take a look at these." She handed them some swatches, some in solid colors, others in a floral or botanical pattern, most of them in the color range of burgundy with varying amounts of gold accents. "We can upholster the two end chairs in one pattern and the side chairs in a complimentary pattern."

Brian found a fabric that he thought he could live with. "This."

"And this," said Justin, handing her another of the swatches.

Both swatches were jacquards, Justin's in a striped pattern. "I think we should use this one," the striped botanical, "on the hosts' chairs and the other pattern on the guest chairs. Is that agreeable to both of you?"

They nodded.

"Well, I think that's a good start. We've got chairs and fabric."

"That still leaves the table, rugs, and all the other furniture and accessories," Brian pointed out.

"But we've done the hardest part. The rest will fall into place, I guarantee."

"Is that a money back guarantee if we're not completely satisfied?" he asked.

"You mean you're paying me for this?"

"Of course," Justin told her. "That way you'll have some practical experiences to put on your resume."

"Did Brian tell you I was going to school in the fall?"

"I think it's great. I'll take you out to get a good backpack. I know what to look for."

Gus, who had been playing with Leo, came over and said, "Nana, I got, I got SpongeBob."

Joanie laughed. "And it's very nice," she told him, taking him into her arms. "So, I'll look around and see what I can find and get back to you next weekend. Is that good for you?"

"Perfect," said Brian. "You wanna take a look at the work upstairs while you're here?"

"Are they still on schedule?"

Justin went with Gus upstairs to pack his bag, the Munchers would be there soon to pick him up. Transitioning him back to their place always went smoother if they came on Sunday afternoon before dinner and got him rather than waiting until later. And if Brian or Justin took him to school in the morning, it was nearly impossible for them not to promise to pick him up in the afternoon.

Although they'd only ripped out the existing fixtures so far and begun rerouting the pipes to their new locations, still the contractors promised them that the job would be completed on time and to their satisfaction. There was a month's worth of work left on the space including erecting a glass wall out in the sitting area to form a home gym and putting up the sauna they'd purchased. Brian couldn't wait for that to be completed. They were waiting though, as the contractors were using that space as a staging area and wouldn't get to it until the very end of the job.

"So, are all of their workers gay?" Joanie asked as the two men who owned the company were.

"I don't know, but I do recognize three or four of them." Lifted a brow.

She understood. Former sex partners is what he called them even though she'd heard him and Justin refer to people like that as tricks. She hadn't asked them why they called them tricks or why they used the phrase, "turning tricks." Actually, she didn't think she wanted to know. Not really. She already knew way too much about their sex life, having heard them one morning prior to the wedding. Sitting in the car with Jennifer afterwards, her face had burned for a long time. Even though she'd never actually seen two men have sex, she could imagine what occurred and it still made her feel slightly uncomfortable to think about Brian and Justin doing those things. Of course, she couldn't imagine Brian and Justin wanting to know what she did in bed either. Not that she'd done anything recently. Not for a long time, even before Jack had died. Their sex life had been non-existent. That's what he'd had his women for. No matter how long it'd taken them to get where they were, she actually believed in Brian and Justin, in their relationship, and their intent to remain faithful to one another. It made her proud of her son and her son-in-law. She smiled. Finally a son-in-law she liked. And he was married to Brian. Leave it to him to land a good husband. 

 

Alone at last, they ate pasta sitting on the sectional and watching "Velvet Goldmine." It had become one of their favorite films ever since they'd watched it in the hotel in the Bahamas. Brian still thought Ewan McGregor was hot even though they'd seen the film at least three times.

Halfway through the film, they lost interest in it. Not that it wasn't entertaining, just that they'd found something better to do than watch a movie. After all, they were still newlyweds.

Kissing up the stairs, they made their way to their room, stripping as they crossed the threshold, halfway naked by the time they got to the bed. Brian let Justin finish undressing while he opened the toy chest. He'd gotten some new ones and slipped them in without Justin having noticed. Tonight was the perfect time to try some of them out. Dropping off the rest of his clothes, he smiled at the picture Justin presented: lying across the bed, legs spread, cock drooping between his thighs. He placed the toys on the top of the chest, out of sight, crawled onto the bed, dropped the lube next to them, and straddled Justin. They kissed until they were hard, cocks moist at the tips. Hands full of Justin's ass, Brian lay back and let his lover rub against him, cock and balls sliding over cock and balls, aided by a generous application of lubricant. Justin moved forward, rubbing his hole over Brian's balls. He was just about to reach for his dick, to climb onto it, when Brian stopped him. "Not yet," he whispered, and eased Justin away from him. He got up. "Turn over," he said, and Justin rolled onto his stomach and went into a crouch.

Brian retrieved the toys he'd gotten out of the chest and lubed the first one with cream. Justin's hole was already tensing and relaxing in anticipation of the pleasures he would experience. As always, the sight of Justin's anus made him hungry for it. Wetting his fingers, he pushed two inside of him and probed him, Justin gasping and enjoying the sensation.

"Mmm…" he moaned and wiggled his ass.

Removing his fingers, Brian picked up the well-lubed toy and pressed it to Justin's hole. Slowly, muscles bulging with the effort not to hurt Justin and to, simultaneously, keep penetrating him, Brian eased the huge dildo inside him.

"Ah! Oh…" groaned Justin as his hole stretched around the wide latex head. God, it ached, he didn't think he could take it all, but then the head passed through and he breathed easier as his ass became accustomed to the girth.

Two inches in diameter, the dildo was the smaller of the two he'd purchased. He could tell that Justin had experienced some pain taking it in and he wondered if he'd even get the chance to try the larger one out on him. Still taking it easy, he began to work the dildo in and out of Justin's hole.

Hands in fists, face screwed up in pleasure and a little pain, Justin tried to relax as Brian fucked him with the dildo. Even though there was pain, it was fading, and the most delicious feeling had begun to wash over him.

Brian withdrew most of the dildo, then said, "Fuck it."

Sighing, Justin swayed back against the dildo, fucking himself on its broad head and heavily-veined shaft. He tightened his ass and held it inside him as he rotated his hips, then let it slide free and bounced back and forth, taking only the head and an inch of the shaft at a time.

The sight of Justin's hole gliding over the toy made Brian's cock twitch. It was time for the bigger one. Removing the dildo, he lubed up the second one and pushed it up Justin's ass.

He cried out as he was stretched even wider. "Oh! Oh! Mmm…" His chest worked furiously as he fought the urge to scream.

"That's it, Baby. You can take it, come on." Brian eased the two-and-a-half-inch wide head inside Justin. "It's gonna feel so good." He only inserted it about a third of its nine inches. Holding it in place with one hand, he used his free hand to play with Justin's balls, to tap them lightly with the palm of his hand causing the young man to squirm and cry out. He grasped the head of his cock and squeezed it and Justin jumped, moaning, the dildo moving inside him. Brian stopped and told him to turn over.

Justin lay on his back, moaning as he saw the monster that protruded from his ass. Helpless to stop himself, he pressed down then moved away, his body struggling to find a comfortable position. He'd never had anything this broad inside him before.

When Justin settled down again, Brian began to wiggle the dildo back and forth, simulating a vibrator. Justin screamed, unable to stop himself. The sensation was incredible. His cock pulsed and he grabbed it and began tugging on it as Brian continued to jiggle the toy. Looking down between his open legs at the wide dildo wedged up his ass, at the muscles in Brian's arm tensing as he worked his hole, Justin felt himself floating on a haze of pleasure. His hands worked his cock and balls on their own; he was lost.

Watching Justin's balls bounce in their sac, Brian succumbed to the desire to taste them and opened his mouth around one testicle, sucking it until Justin began to shout. Brian felt the drops of cum rain on his head and released Justin, turning his face upwards towards a shower of jizz. 

 

The first week of April began with them anxiously awaiting the completion of their bathroom. Each day they came home and lifted the plastic sheet that separated their bedroom from the work area and tried to gauge the workmen's progress. By the end of March, the plumbing had been completed, the shower installed, and the wall construction completed. At the end of the first week in April, the other walls of the bathroom had been painted and the decorative tiles applied. Justin, Xavier, and Rennie were going in on the weekend to paint the mural on the new divider wall. In addition to the overall painting, some of the fixtures had been put in place. Now, all that was left for the contractors was to install the rest of the fixtures and to lay the new tile on the floor. Then they'd have to build the new glass wall out in the sitting area, put in the sauna, and their work would be done.

Having secured a promise from Brian not to interrupt them and not to offer any guidance or suggestions or criticisms, the three friends started early Saturday morning working on the mural. Justin had sketched out a rough drawing and he and the others had added embellishments and refined the sketch until it met with their satisfaction. Since they were basically doing a tracing on the wall done in sepia tones, they didn't expect it to take more than a day. After having researched buon fresco or wet fresco techniques where the pigments were mixed in with wet plaster to become part of the wall itself in the same manner that Michelangelo had painted the Sistine Chapel, the trio decided that they wanted to do something less demanding. So they settled on modified secco or the dry technique where paint mixed with an adhesive was painted on dry plaster. Traditionally secco frescoes were less durable than true frescoes but that actually suited them better as they wanted to imbue the mural with a feeling of decay, of deterioration; to suggest that they had come upon the ruins of some ancient palace where only bits and pieces of a wall painting might have survived.

The previous day, Justin had coated the wall with glue to prepare it for the fresco. Now that it had dried, the painting could begin. Using charcoal, they reproduced the drawing of the mural freehand onto the plaster, making corrections as needed. Then, they fixed the design with an ochre ink and, afterwards, began the process of applying the casein paint. The effect, as the parts of the mural began to take shape, was that of an opaque watercolor painting in nearly transparent shades of yellow ochre, burnt sienna, and raw sienna.

Taking a break after close to three hours of work, they went downstairs to find Brian working at the table in the family room.

"Where's lunch?" Justin asked as he kissed his husband.

"I ordered Chinese."

"Get anything vegetarian?" asked Rennie.

"Stir-fried tofu and green beans. And spicy sesame noodles."

Rennie plopped down in the chair next to him. "I love this man."

"We know," intoned Xavier and Justin. Brian just lifted a brow and kissed her on the cheek, earning him a glowing smile from Rennie and a glare from his spouse. The last thing Justin wanted was for Brian to encourage her crush.

"So," he asked, "how goes it?"

"We've got about a third of it done," replied Justin. "We can finish the rest of the painting this afternoon, let it dry, and then tomorrow I'm going to put on a glaze and wax it and it'll be done."

"How's it look?" he asked Rennie, not trusting Justin's objectivity when it came to painting. The young artist was much more comfortable with pen and paper than he was with a paintbrush and, as such, was simultaneously dubious about his own talents and suspect of painting in general.

"It looks fabulous," she said. Although she worked primarily in sculptural forms, she was an excellent painter and had no such reservations as Justin. "You're gonna love it."

"What do you think?" he asked, addressing his question to Xavier who had sat down next to Rennie, careful not to take a seat anywhere near Justin.

"Like the lady said, it's da bomb."

"Sweet." To Justin, "Then when can I see it?"

"When we're done this afternoon."

He nodded. "I gotta go into the office anyway. Left some papers that I need."

Which Justin recognized for the excuse it was. Brian couldn't stand it any longer, being banished from the work site so he was leaving the house to minimize the risk of him throwing caution to the wind and sneaking a peek anyway. 

 

Brian's Jeep was in the yard when he came home from taking Xavier and Rennie back to school and he knew, without a doubt, that the man had probably hurried upstairs to take a look at the bathroom. Going inside, he expected to find Brian in their suite but he was in the kitchen instead, heating up the leftovers from lunch.

"Hey."

"Did you go look?"

"Thought I'd wait for you." Smirked. "In case you needed to explain any complex painting techniques."

Justin grinned and tossed his keys in the basket they kept on the countertop just for that purpose, and went to set the table. He was starving.

Expecting Brian to rush through dinner, he was disappointed. The man ate at a leisurely pace and then cleared away the dishes as usual, cleaned up, poured a second glass of wine, sat down on the sectional sofa, and put his feet up.

"Brian!" shouted Justin in exasperation.

"What?"

"Don't you want to see the bathroom?"

"You mean I can now?"

Nearly pulling him from his seat, Justin lead him upstairs and into their suite. "Close your eyes."

"How will I drink my wine?" he asked as he'd brought the glass with him.

Justin took it from him and sat it on the toy chest. "Close your eyes."

"They're closed."

"Come on." He guided Brian to the bathroom, positioned him in front of the wall, and said, "Okay. You can look now." And he held his breath. God, he hoped Brian liked it. They'd worked so hard on it and Brian was such a perfectionist when it came to the house that if he didn't like it, he'd let them know in no uncertain terms.

He paused once before opening his eyes, hoping that the wall would be what he'd envisioned, and then again before speaking. In that instant, Justin felt his hopes sink and then Brian said, "Baby, it's incredible." The vision he'd had in his head had been transformed into something that surpassed his expectations. He could almost imagine that he'd walked out into the Italian countryside and stumbled onto an outcropping of tumbled columns overgrown with vines and plants, still echoing faintly the glory of times past, low hills rising gently in the distance.

"You mean it?"

"It's perfect." He smiled. "I can't wait until this room is finished and we can soak in our tub, across from our brand new mural." He put his arms around Justin and held him.

"It'll be like bathing in a pool in the woods," said Justin.

"Moonlight coming in through the windows."

"Mr. Kinney, if you're not careful, someone might mistake you for a romantic."

"Is that so, Mr. Taylor-Kinney?"

As usual, it gave him the shivers to hear someone call him that. "Say it again."

"Mr. Taylor-Kinney," Brian repeated with a kiss. 

Bathroom (revised)

 

On Thursday, Brian got a call at the office from Justin letting him know that the bathroom had been completed. He'd gone home in the mid-afternoon to rest before his evening shift at the diner and found the contractors doing a final walk-through of the space.

"How's it look?"

"Fabulous," he replied and, even then, the words failed to adequately describe the new room. From the bronzed tiled border taking the place of a non-existent chair rail to the new walk-in shower made of a transparent bronze-colored glass blocks to the new terra cotta flooring and the amazing dividing wall, the room radiated elegance and style. "I can't wait until you see it."

"When are you getting home tonight?"

"After eleven."

"Too late for a bath?"

"Perfect time." He could see Brian smile in his mind.

"Later."

"Later." 

 

Justin hadn't exaggerated the job the contractors had done. The room was exquisite. Walking inside the shower, he ran his hand over the ceramic tiled back wall, feeling the stone-like details. Stepping out of the shower onto the terra cotta floor, he imagined how it would feel when the tiles were warmed. They'd had the contractors reinstall the heating system beneath the floor, no luxury but a necessary expense for those cold winter nights in Pittsburgh. The walls had been done in a two tone Venetian plaster finish, saturating them color: a pearl-colored marbleized effect on the top half and a raw sienna on the bottom, both with a slightly metallic sheen that matched the bronze border tiles. In the midst of the rich hues, his Philippe Stark fixtures held center stage. Far from seeming cold and modern despite the clean lines, the wood accents contributed to the overall warmth of the space.

Although he'd been the one to suggest building the partitioning wall, he hadn't been completely sure what it'd look like when it was done and what it'd do to the feel of the bathroom but now that it was up, he loved it, loved how it divided the large space and the resulting coziness.

With Justin working, he was on his own for the evening. Changing his clothes, he rummaged through the fridge trying to find something quick and easy to fix for dinner. Leo hovered nearby, waiting for his dinner as well.

"Sorry, Leo." Brian put off his search to scoop some dry food into the kitten's bowl. "There you go." Returning to the refrigerator, he found a chicken breast that was already cooked and some peppers in the veggie bin. "Stir fry it is." Luckily they also had some sugar snap peas and a handful of shiitake mushrooms. There was an unopened bottle of Szechwan stir fry sauce in the pantry and enough rice in the canister for three or four servings.

When dinner was ready, he hunkered down on the sectional and watched "The Powerpuff Girls" as he ate, Leo curled up next to him. Snickered to himself. God, if his former sex partners could see him now. A married man, a family man. Unbidden, his father's words came back to him, _"Never should have been a family man."_ But he was and, surprise surprise, he actually liked it. More than liked, he loved it. Loved his home, loved his family. _Christ,_ he groused silently. _I've turned into fucking Ward Cleaver._ Leo pushed his head into his hand, wanting to be rubbed. With a fucking cat. Talk about a stereotype. A gay man with a cat. He laughed aloud scaring Leo but the kitten recovered quickly and came back for more loving'.

Leaving the couch only to clear away the dishes and to grab a glass of wine, Brian put his feet up and, within a half hour, was asleep, Leo at his side.

An especially loud noise on television must have woke him because he came to all of a sudden with a jerk. "Shit." Checked the clock on the DVD player. Ten forty-five. Justin would be home in less than half an hour. Time enough to make preparations.

With Leo trailing behind him trying to keep up as best he could, Brian managed to get everything ready by the time he heard the front door slam close.

"Brian!" called Justin.

"Up here!" he yelled back. Why Justin didn't just come on up and find him, he didn't know. Or, better yet, use the intercom. Coeds. Within moments he heard Justin's footsteps on the stairs and then in the bedroom. He met him by the closet wearing his black, silk robe.

"Wow," Justin said appreciatively.

"Mmm," he responded and began to undress his spouse. When Justin was completely nude, Brian lead him to the bathroom where a dozen votives lined the window ledge next to the tub. A bottle of wine chilled in a bucket, next to which were two glasses. The tub was filled to the brim with bubbles.

"How romantic."

Brian dropped off his robe and got in, gestured for Justin to join him. They settled down with audible sighs. The water was just a tad hot in anticipation of it cooling off as they soaked but it felt great. For a while, they just sat together in silence, Brian's arms around Justin, and then they began to talk: about the bathroom, about their plans for the dining and living rooms, about their second month anniversary which was coming up the following week.

Taking their choices for the dining room chairs, Joanie had designed a room that combined the clean lines Brian desired with the formality that Justin craved. She'd begun the laborious process of putting together a price list so that they could finalize their decisions about furniture, fabric, mirrors, other accent pieces, and rugs. Brian still wasn't sure about the Oriental rug Justin wanted but both Justin and Joanie had assured him that the table needed something to anchor it in the room. The biggest source of contention, however, was the Murano glass chandelier that Justin had his eye on. Not only was it expensive, it was gold. To Brian, chandeliers meant thin brass fixtures hung with crystals and glass, not an ornate, gold-colored, glass behemoth that, to him, would dominate the room.

"Which is why we need the rug," Justin had said. "To balance out the chandelier."

They'd had several very tense discussions about the piece and Brian was to the point where he either wanted to give in and say, "Fuck it," or unequivocally nix Justin's choice and go with something simpler. Lying in the tub, his husband in his arms, content, comfortable, he found himself leaning towards the former. What did it really matter in the end? Justin was right, they'd eat in the room maybe ten times at the most in a year. In the final analysis, having peace in their household was worth any twinges he felt when he looked at the light fixture. Besides, it wasn't as if it was ungainly or unattractive, it just wasn't what he'd expected. Putting those thoughts from his mind, he turned to the activity at hand: lounging.

"So what's your favorite thing about the bathroom?" Justin asked.

"Hard to say." He thought as he took a sip of wine. "It's a toss-up between the tub and the wall. You?"

"Definitely the tub. And the wall," he added, reaching for his own glass which was almost empty. Finished the wine and then placed the goblet back on the window sill and settled back down. "This was a great idea."

"I'm full of them."

Justin laughed. "Full of shit," and he turned and covered Brian's lips with his own before the man could respond. You never knew what would come out of Brian's mouth. For someone with as much taste and sophistication as he had, he could be surprisingly crude and somewhat vulgar. Justin supposed it had a lot to do with the way he was brought up. Which was a very snobbish thing to think on his part but he would bet money that he didn't have that he was right. As Brian would say, he definitely hadn't grown up among the country club set. More like the billy club set. Amused by his thoughts, Justin giggled into Brian's mouth causing the man to pull away.

"I think it's time to get out of the tub. Someone's getting silly."

"Getting horny," he said and he straddled Brian's hips and rubbed up against him, letting him feel his incipient erection.

Leo, who had been wandering around the house, finally grew curious about his masters and came to see what they were up to. Meowing softly, he walked around the tub trying to figure out what they were doing. Taking a handful of suds, Brian blew them down at the cat who jumped out of the way and then cautiously approached the bubbles to investigate. Sticking his nose in the suds, he backed up and sneezed. Sneezed again and ran out of the bathroom.

"Maybe we should surround the bed with suds when we have sex," Brian said as they'd been interrupted more than once by the kitten sitting at the foot of the bed and watching while they were fucking. If they became too vigorous, he'd move to the toy chest and peek over the foot board, something Justin found very disconcerting in hindsight even though, during the actual act, a crowd of people eating popcorn and slurping soda could have been watching them and he wouldn't have cared.

"Well," he suggested, "I think we should take advantage of this window of opportunity to stop talking and start…" He kissed Brian and got out of the tub, suds sliding down his body as the water ran off of him.

Reaching out to touch a slick, round cheek, Brian licked his lips. That sounded like an excellent idea. 

 

Sticking her head in the door after knocking, Cynthia announced, "There's a Gus Peterson here to see you," and then a small hand appeared and pushed the door open even wider and Gus came into view.

"Daddy."

"Come here, Sonny Boy," drawled Brian and the toddler ran across the room and climbed onto his father's lap. Bestowing loud kisses upon one another's face, they embraced. "What are you doing here?"

Lindsay had come in behind Gus and prompted the little boy. "Tell him. Remember what Mommy said?" Gus looked at her without comprehension. The excitement of seeing Daddy had forced any previous discussions from his mind. "We came by to say Happy Birthday?" she prompted him.

He remembered. "Happy Bir'day, Daddy," said Gus and he kissed Brian again.

"Do I get a present?" teased Brian and Gus looked around at Lindsay who handed him a box wrapped in bright blue and yellow SpongeBob SquarePants paper with a purple bow on top.

"Gus picked out the wrapping paper and the bow."

"Here," said Gus, giving the box to Brian.

"Thank you." He made to put the box away but Gus was having none of that.

"Open," he ordered in his He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed voice, which he'd probably picked up from Brian.

So, smiling, Brian opened his present. Inside the box was a round disc of fired clay with a small handprint in the middle. "Wow, that's beautiful." He wasn't quite sure if it was supposed to be a paperweight or an ash tray.

"Gus did it," Lindsay explained needlessly.

"You did?" Gus nodded, suddenly shy. "You made this for me?"

"Yeah," he replied softly and received another big kiss which made him giggle.

"Thank you."

"We'come," he answered, very pleased with himself even though Lindsay had helped him with the present.

Lindsay leaned in and gave Brian a kiss. "Happy Birthday. Got any plans?"

Raising in brows in mock surrender, he said, "I agreed to help Justin plant his herb garden in the morning and then we're having a romantic dinner for two out in the courtyard that night. If we're lucky, the festivities will continue through Sunday," he told her with a wry grin.

"So don't bother showing up until the afternoon," she ventured to guess.

"Exactly."

Wondering if she were making a mistake bringing it up, she did so anyway. "So how does it feel? Thirty-two-years old."

He didn't even think about it. "Feels great," he answered. "Although, I have to admit, that being twenty-years-old feels pretty good too."

"Good thing you've got a twenty-year-old then."

"Got the best one."

At that she laughed, then smiled gently. "I can't believe you've been married for what? Nine weeks now?"

"We celebrate monthly."

"How sweet."

Looking dubious, he commented dryly, "Yeah."

"Sorry. It's too late. I was at your wedding and we all know now what a romantic you are at heart."

Caught, he laughed and shook his head. "Go figure."

Tired of being left out of the conversation, Gus asked, "Daddy, go home?"

Before Brian could answer, Lindz interjected with, "Not this weekend. Remember? Next weekend. You can spend next weekend with Daddy."

"I want tub." And then he added, "And Leo."

"He loves that tub," Brian explained. "And Leo."

"And you and Justin and the house."

"Loves you too. I don’t know about Mel or your house."

"You." She popped him on the arm. Held out her hands for Gus. "Kiss Daddy goodbye and let's go."

Knowing when to argue and when not to make a fuss, Gus dutifully kissed Brian, climbed down from his lap, and waved bye-bye as he and Lindsay left. 

 

He was really looking forward to tomorrow night. Candles, champagne, white table cloth spread over the table beneath the wisteria which had bloomed, the air heavy with its scent. They planned on buying a rustic table to go out in the courtyard, one that would seat at least ten or twelve people but, for now, they decided they'd use the mosaic table and chair set Justin had bought online. Normally they kept it in the solarium where they'd had two monthly anniversary dinners. This would be their first dinner outdoors.

Leo met him at the door, meowing softly as was his way. "Hey, Leo."

Justin called out, "Hey."

Putting his briefcase and overcoat on the steps of the stairs, Brian made a detour into the kitchen. Kissed his partner. "Smells good."

"Chicken. Thyme and lemon. Pretty soon we'll have our very own fresh thyme."

As Mel would say, "Yippee."

With a smack on the arm, Justin sent Brian along to change and hoped he put on something very sexy, very revealing, and very easy to get out of as he'd been thinking about him all day, wanting to touch him, to make love to him. Even though they'd been together, really, for three years, his desire for Brian had not diminished, only increased exponentially. And since their wedding, that desire had grown threefold. He looked for any excuse for them to be together both sexually and non-sexually; longed for him in the middle of the day when Brian was busy at work and he was in class, supposedly paying attention to a lecture or struggling with a painting but, instead, daydreaming about his husband. My husband. As usual, it made his stomach flutter. He couldn't wait until his court date in a couple of weeks when it'd become official, his name change. Justin Taylor-Kinney. Already he used it in his daily interactions with people. The first time someone had called him Mr. Taylor-Kinney, he'd had to pause before answering, the thrill had been that great.

As if he'd been privy to Justin's thoughts, Brian had put on his black tank top and a weather-beaten pair of low-slung jeans that rode his hips. Top button undone. Beckoning curious fingers. He caught Justin eyeing him as he took down a couple of plates to set the table. Grinned. Even at thirty-one-years and three hundred and sixty-four-days old, he still had it. And Justin still wanted it. Not that he'd ever doubted. Nevertheless, he was flattered.

The chicken, as expected, was delicious. And even though they were only sitting at the dining table with Leo curled in one of the empty chairs, no candles, no champagne, it felt special. Finishing their meal, they held hands across the table and talked about their week, Justin telling Brian about one of his last assignments for school: to paint a still life. "Everyone knows my painting's for shit," he grumbled

"Can't excel at everything." He found himself constantly reminding Justin of that fact as the younger man was a bit of a perfectionist and was used to being the best at everything. And even if he wasn't the best, he expected to be.

"Still…"

"You did a good job on the mural. Maybe you just need more practice."

"What I need," he said ruefully, "is a miracle." Kissing his fingers, Brian reassured him that one would be forthcoming. "You never stop believing in me, do you?" Justin asked with wonder in his voice.

"You never give me a reason not to," Brian replied.

Satisfied, Justin rose to clear away the dishes, Brian helping him, neither saying much, content to work side-by-side, movements coordinated, having done this hundreds of times. Leo tumbled from his perch to follow them first into the kitchen and then upstairs where they all settled down on the bed, Leo to nap, the two men to watch a film or, at least, to pretend to watch. That ruse lasted all of twenty minutes, the last ten spent snatching furtive glances at one another or shifting needlessly to bring them in closer contact. Finally, giving up all pretence, they clicked off the television and sent Leo on his way, the kitten climbing into his house without a fuss, having been banished from the bed on many other occasions. 

 

"You really don't mind helping me tomorrow?" asked Justin, gently stroking Brian's side, curled up against his chest, very nearly purring the way Leo did after he'd been brushed.

"Nope."

"Even though it's your birthday?"

He shrugged. "What else would I do?"

Laughing, Justin kissed his throat. "I could think of a few things."

"What makes you think we won't get to that?"

Justin climbed on top of him and kissed him, lips barely touching. Glanced at the clock and kissed him again, this time harder. "Happy Birthday," he whispered. 

 

"You know, we could have gotten one of those window planter things," Brian pointed out as he loosened the soil with a shovel.

"You promised to help."

"I am helping. Look at the blisters." He briefly displayed his hands which were completely unaffected by his labor.

"Poor Pookie. I promise I'll kiss 'em and make 'em better. Later," he added in case Brian had any ideas about quitting now. First they had marked off the sections of the beds, next they had to turn the soil, and then they'd have to add the compost that they'd bought to raise the beds in preparation for planting the seeds and seedlings they'd purchased earlier in the week. After all of that was done, they planned on laying stepping stones between the beds, mostly for decorative purposes.

Luckily they had gotten up at the crack of dawn to try and get most of the work done before the full force of the sun began to beat down upon them. It was still spring but already they'd had some pretty hot days. Today's sky was clear and the forecast last night had predicted plenty of sun.

Brian had begrudgingly gotten up when Justin called him; put on his cut-offs, tank top, and an old pair of sneakers; eaten his birthday breakfast dutifully; and girded himself for a day of forced cheerfulness. He did not care for manual labor and this "Green Acres" scenario was definitely not to his taste but Justin wanted an herb garden and Justin wanted him to help. So help he would. Of course, he was going to be rewarded later on. After all, it was his birthday. Besides, they were only planting a small garden; how long could that take?

Much later he wondered how two hours could manage to feel like twenty. The sun had put in an early appearance and sweat poured from his body. Wiping his brow, he paused to pull off his tank top, and wiped his face again. Took a breather and then spotted Justin bending over. At which point he caught his breath.

His partner was wearing a pair of navy blue shorts that he'd bought years ago (that long?) for their trip to the Bahamas. Split up the side for ease of movement, they were short enough to afford Brian a view of his cheeks when he bent over. Dropping his shovel, Brian sidled up behind him. Clasped his hips.

"You rang?" asked Justin, feeling Brian's crotch against his behind.

"Break time."

Justin laughed throatily and shook his head but he did throw down his shovel as well and allow Brian to lead him over to the house. Not bothering to go inside, they kissed beneath the shadow of the eaves, Justin's back against the wall. It was only when Brian's hand slipped inside his shorts and made to pull them down that Justin demurred. "Someone might see," he murmured quite reasonably as the garden was located between the house and the garage and hence at the end of the driveway.

"Wouldn't be the first time," replied Brian, palms cupping his ass, but he desisted and contented himself with a few more deep kisses, then released his partner and sighed. "Later?"

"Definitely," promised Justin who had just about gotten to the stage where a troop of Girl Scouts could have tromped up the driveway and he wouldn't have cared. Eyeing the bulge in his shorts ruefully, he picked up his shovel and began mixing in the compost again.

At last they'd finished preparing the beds, now they could actually begin to plant the herbs. Tarragon, basil, oregano, rosemary, sage, thyme, parsley, and spearmint for them with a bed of catnip for Leo, the latter fenced in to keep the neighborhood cats from disturbing the plants. Some of the herbs, like the catnip, parsley, and basil could be grown directly from seeds, the others from cuttings. The spearmint they would plant in a container as it was very invasive and would take over the garden if left to its own devices.

Looking at the size of the areas for each type of herb, Brian asked, "Do we really need this much tarragon?"

"Some of them might not make it."

He nodded. Made sense. Not everything lived. Despite the care you took. And if you were careless, you might find yourself kneeling next to the person you loved—he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. It scared him, how suddenly it would come upon him, the panic, even now.

"Brian?" Concerned, Justin paused in his planting. Maybe he'd gotten too much sun.

"I'm all right."

Finishing up the basil, Justin surveyed the beds. They'd planted everything and just in time. Noon was fast approaching and despite Brian's reassurances, Justin was worried. "Lunch?"

Brian wiped his hands on the front of his pants leaving prints. "I thought you'd never ask." Rising from the ground, he grimaced. His legs were covered in dirt as were his arms and he was sure there were smudges on his face as there were smudges on Justin's and dark shadows in his brightly colored hair. "Maybe a shower first."

Meeting him at the side door, Justin ran his hand up under his shirt and across his back, feeling his muscles, hard from exertion. "Sounds like a fabulous idea."

Just inside the door, they kicked off their sneakers and carried them in their hands, hoping they'd track less dirt that way since they had to travel from the kitchen stairs to their bathroom, the entire length of the house. Watching Justin walk in front of him, his plump buttocks beckoning to be touched, Brian began to care less and less about showering and more and more about finishing what they'd begun earlier that day. As if he'd felt his partner's eyes on him, Justin looked over his shoulder and smiled.

Shoes tossed onto the floor, Brian's clothes followed. Justin waited. Dropping to his knees, Brian pushed up Justin's shirt and kissed his belly, tasting dirt and sweat, and skin. Lips following his sweet line, Brian inched his lover's shorts down around his hips, kissing every stretch of skin that was revealed until he was rooting down around the base of Justin's cock. Which twitched as Brian's tongue flicked over the head and then under, lifting the tip so that it slid between eager lips. Lips that closed about it and held it in place while the tongue washed over it. Lips that parted slightly so that the head was completely enclosed. And then the first few inches of shaft.

Justin moaned and ran his hands through Brian's hair, fingers brushing over the nape to remain there, gently guiding him as he went down on him. Cock stiffening. Thickening. Stretching towards the back of Brian's throat. He pumped his hips slowly, sliding in between those beautiful red lips. In, out, over and over until he could feel every bump on his lover's tongue.

Coming up for a breather, Brian kissed the tip, then licked away a bead of precum that appeared. "I love your cock," he whispered and opened his lips over the head once more and sucked it hard, eliciting a cry from his little boy as another drop of sticky juice appeared and was swiped away. Brian rubbed the swollen head over his lips as he kissed the sides, the bottom. Holding it up against Justin's belly, he licked the shaft from root to tip, painting the underside with saliva.

"Oh," gasped Justin and he rolled his head back against the wall as Brian took his cock back inside his mouth and sucked him again.

Hungrily, he fed on his lover's dick, tugging it one way and then the other, twisting his lips about the girth of it, feeling the head blossom inside his mouth. He knew Justin was close to coming from the sounds he was making and the way he gripped his hair.

Pushing down on Brian's shoulders, Justin simultaneously rose up on his toes and thrust his hips towards his partner's head, fucking his face. Shouting, he came, the wall cool against his back as he slumped to the floor, cock pulled from Brian's mouth, cum spurting on his lips and face. Justin rested where he was for a few moments, Brian's arm around his waist, and then he pushed his lover back onto the floor and straddled him. Kissed him, smearing his cum on their lips and cheeks. He lapped Brian's face clean then kissed him again, sharing the last of his spooge.

"Baby…" breathed Brian but when Justin made to reciprocate, he stopped him. Kissed him. "Later."

Only Justin wasn't interested in waiting until later. As soon as the opportunity arose, he took advantage of it, taking hold of Brian's cock and stroking it, pressing his lover back against the wall and keeping him there (a ruse on both their parts since Brian could have escaped) while he jacked him off. Lips fixed around one of Brian's nipples, Justin sucked his tit while his fingers worked his cock, alternating feather soft strokes around the perimeter of the head with rough tugs on the shaft. He rolled his balls in the palm of his hand, then closed his fingers around them, pulling them gently, Brian's cock dipping from the movement, a strand of precum stretching from the tip. "Feel good?" he asked and Brian moaned. Freeing his balls, Justin rubbed the sac with his open hand, one finger prying between his cheeks to play in his hole.

"Justin…"

The young man used both hands on his lover. The fingers of one wrapped around his shaft, the others teased his balls and asshole, probing the moist opening until a finger gained entrance. Groaning, Brian shut his eyes and came. Justin's hand was sticky with cum, which he rubbed into Brian's skin.

"You're bossy," Brian said when he could speak again.

"Uh-huh." He pulled Brian into the middle of the shower and got the gel. "Now, hurry up, it's time for lunch." 

 

After a leisurely lunch and an hour-long nap, the two men got up and went back outside to finish up, positioning the stepping stones between the beds and putting the miniature fence up around the catnip. When they were done, they put away all their tools and surveyed their work.

"Looks great," Justin decided and Brian didn't disagree. "Course," the teen said, with a wicked grin on his face, "we need to shower again." As they did. Both were sweaty and streaked with dirt once more.

"Hold on," Brian said and he went and got the garden hose. Dropped off his clothes right there in the driveway. Not one to lag too far behind, Justin did the same and hoped no one decided to come visit them. Least the cars provided some shelter from the street. Standing in the yard, hosing one another off, they were both reminded of being kids and having their mom do the same thing to them in the summer. Like a little boy, Justin giggled and danced around as he was hosed down, shook his hair from his eyes and smiled. Gently spraying Justin's back, crystal droplets of water rolling down onto his buttocks, Brian admired his slender form. Christ, he was beautiful. By the time he handed off the hose to Justin, he was sporting a fairly impressive erection.

"That for me?" laughed Justin and he playfully sprinkled it with water. "Think this'll make it grow?"

"Needs something to eat," growled Brian.

"I wonder what dicks eat?" he asked, grinning.

"Come here and I'll show you," Brian replied, reaching for him, and Justin danced away from him and sprayed him again.

"Uh-uh."

"Come here," Brian repeated and again Justin moved out of reach and doused him.

"No." Squirted him once more. "Stay back. Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else… I'll scream." Moving steadily back.

Brian stalked him. "Go ahead. Scream." He pounced and caught the slippery young man who dropped the hose and attempted rather ineptly to fight him off. All the while laughing. Brian dragged him down into the grass and pushed him onto his back. Nipped his neck. "Scream."

"Make me," Justin challenged him breathlessly.

So he did. 

 

Feeling as if he hadn't seen them all day, Leo stuck close to them when they came in and positioned himself inside the exercise room as they sat in the sauna. Surprised that Mikey or his mom hadn't called, Brian was, nevertheless, glad as he was bushed. He supposed he needed to remember that he wasn't in his twenties anymore. Although he was in very good shape, there were only so many hours in the day that he could spend at the gym and time was definitely catching up with him, slowly but surely. On the plus side, Justin was pooped too and he was only twenty so Brian didn't feel too bad. In fact, he felt damn good. They hadn't fucked like that in a while. Not that the sex wasn't good between them, it was great, but they hadn't had a really wild session since March. Between moving, and getting married, and the renovations, and every day life, he supposed they hadn't had the energy to get down and dirty. Today they'd done both. Gotten down in the dirt and grass and fucked like they hadn't had sex for years. He was certain the neighbors must have heard them as Justin had moaned and groaned while getting pounded into the ground and had shouted when he came, screaming Brian's name while his hole had tightened around his lover's cock. Brian was tired and sore and not from the gardening. He just hoped he was up for another round tonight.

Justin felt Brian stir next to him and started to drift off. He was exhausted. Brian and he hadn't fucked like that since their honeymoon. Although he treasured the gentle lovemaking that had become the norm these days, he also liked it rough sometimes, Brian pinning him down and fucking him hard, wearing him out. Liked feeling raw and stretched, so tender that the slightest touch caused him to wince. He had slipped onto the sauna bench, careful not to sit down directly on the hard board. Brian had hammered his hole and he'd loved it. Screaming his name, tearing up fistfuls of grass. He'd felt like an animal almost. Even now it made his cock stir. He smiled as he closed his eyes. Later… 

 

Brian was seated in the middle of the closet contemplating his choice of dinner clothes. A half hour earlier, Justin had risen and showered and dressed, needing to pick up a few items for dinner. Brian's job was to dress and set things up outside. Or maybe to set things up and then dress. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he went downstairs and grabbed the box of decorations from the closet. Inspired by Rennie's wedding present of decorative lights for the pergola, Justin and his mom had gone shopping again.

There were strings of lights to hang in the arbor, the gold, antique ivory, and cinnamon shades of Japanese silk and organza nestled among the drooping stalks of purple wisteria blooms. They'd moved the mosaic table out to the courtyard, over which Brian now draped a gold crushed tissue silk table cloth and set white pillar candles upon it. To complete the look there were dark golden-colored linen napkins and amethyst plates and glasses. As it was still a little cool most nights, he also set up the Italian made patio heater they'd purchased for the courtyard to provide a little extra warmth when the temperature dropped after sunset. When everything was in its place, Brian returned upstairs to shower and dress. Justin would be returning soon. He hoped.  
Having just slipped his sweater over his head, he heard footsteps approaching in the hallway. In a moment Justin came inside the closet. Eyed him approvingly.

"You look amazing."

"Thanks." He did; in a crew-necked, grey vertical-striped Kenneth Cole cotton sweater made in Italy and woven with such skill that the entire piece seemed to shimmer. Lightweight and form-fitting without being tight, it emphasized his chest and accentuated his slender frame.

Moving into his arms, Justin kissed him and ran his fingers over Brian's shoulder, feeling the fabric. "Happy Birthday."

"You look pretty amazing yourself."

"You noticed." They'd both picked up things at the Kenneth Cole store. Justin had opted for a simpler look, choosing a dark seashell-colored, short-sleeved, cotton knit sweater with all over ribbing and accented with three black bands running around his chest and a narrower set of black stripes stretching down his torso. Both wore black trousers.

"Get everything?" asked Brian.

"Yep. So, we should probably start cooking. If you do the steaks, I'll fix a salad and grill some polenta."

"Is there cake?" Grinning, Justin assured him that there was cake. "Deal."

With Leo following them, they descended to the kitchen and began gathering ingredients. Brian was going to cook the steaks outside in the courtyard and leave the kitchen grill for Justin and his dishes. The kitten was content to wander around the kitchen with the two of them but when Brian left for the courtyard, he had to make up his mind as to which one he wanted to be with. In the end, he didn't have a choice as they didn't intend to let him outside, the breeder having assured them that Burmese didn't do well outdoors. Not that they were too fragile, they were too trusting. No survival instinct. So, Leo had to content himself with standing inside the livingroom and watching Brian from behind the glass door. Eventually, that got boring and he returned to the kitchen to weave sinuously between Justin's feet as he cooked. Used to it and used to dealing with Gus as well, Justin barely broke stride.

In less than twenty minutes they regrouped outside, Leo having gone upstairs to nap after eating his food. The steaks were marinating in the small outdoor fridge and Brian poured the wine while Justin plated the polenta and sprinkled a compote of fresh plum tomatoes and shaved Parmigiano-Reggiano over it. When he was done, he raised his glass. "A toast." Brian raised his. "To my husband on his thirty-second birthday. Like fine wine, you only get better as the years go by. Cheers."

The tips of his ears red, Brian replied, "Cheers."

Justin took a sip. "This is good. Is this another bottle from Italy?"

"Yeah. I say we go back this year and restock." It was a joke between them as they'd decided to stay home this summer and work on the house and save a lot of money.

"Maybe we could go back to France too and hit the Loire River valley vineyards." If you were going to dream, dream big.

"Works for me." He smiled and cut his polenta in two. Stopped. "I forgot the music."

"Later," said Justin. "I like it just the way it is. Quiet. Just the two of us." It was certainly romantic enough, eating by the glow of the candles on the table and the lights strung in the wisteria, without having any music.

Chewing his food, Brian finished eating and then said, "It's kind of strange. I thought I'd hear from Mikey or my mom."

"I told them to call tomorrow. Why do you think Lindsay and Gus came by to see you yesterday at your office?" At Brian's curious look, he explained, "I wanted you all to myself today."

Amused, Brian asked, "All to yourself, huh?"

"Uh-huh. No interruptions, no distractions, no company. Just me and my old man."

"Not so old," countered Brian.

Stroking his fingers, Justin agreed, "Not old at all."

Having dispensed with the appetizers, Brian got up and put on the steaks. The smell tickled their nostrils and whetted the edge of their hunger. Intending to cook his just for a few moments, he set it aside while starting to grill Justin's until it was well-done. A waste of good beef in his opinion but Justin wouldn't eat it otherwise so what could you do? Besides, each time he managed to cook the meat for a shorter period of time, figuring he'd eventually get Justin to accept it medium-rare.

As Brian brought the steaks to the table, Justin said, "I should probably be serving you. After all, it's your birthday."

"You will be. Later on."

"Promises, promises." Slicing off a piece, Justin closed his eyes and chewed blissfully. "Perfect."

Brian agreed. It was the perfect birthday. Good wine, good food, and the best company imaginable. They reminisced as married couples did, laughing over memorable moments in their trip to Europe.

"Remember that night we came home drunk from dinner and you flirted with the desk clerk at the hotel?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Brian asked, "Where?" There'd been a lot of hotels, a lot of flirting, and a lot of nights when they'd returned from dinner slightly tipsy.

"In Rome."

"Oh, him." Brian smiled. "He was kind of cute."

"And very married."

"So was I."

Which pleased Justin as they had only exchanged rings in private at that point. Still, each of them had taken those promises seriously, no matter that they'd both failed in various ways to keep the vows inscribed in the bands. There'd be no failures this time. No matter what. Even if they each went out and slept with a dozen guys, together or separately, their vows would remain intact because they understood now that it had nothing to do with adhering to the letter of the law and everything to do with keeping faith in their hearts.

"I loved that hotel," Brian added. "And the hotel in Venice. And London. And Paris."

"The ones in Spain weren't bad either," Justin reminded him.

"Beds were good for bouncing," teased Brian.

"But not as good as our bed."

"Nothing's as good as our bed for bouncing," Brian agreed.

"How long is our mattress supposed to last?"

Brian thought and replied, "As long as we do."

"Forever then," smiled Justin.

Steaks and salads consumed, they sat and watched the stars for a while, content just to be together.

Justin scooted his chair around the table until he was sitting next to Brian, leaning on his shoulder. "Better than the view from the Eiffel Tower," he whispered. Cupping his face, Brian kissed him softly.

"So where's my cake?"

"Wait here." Grinning, Justin carried their dirty dishes into the house while Brian put out the dessert plates and dishes. With his back to Brian, Justin called out at the door, "Close your eyes!" Brian did so and waited, wondering what surprise his Baby had in store for him. Carefully, Justin placed the cake on the table and said, "Okay." Brian opened his eyes. "Happy Birthday!"

Brian laughed and shaded his eyes. It was a cake in the shape of a young man lying on his back, a blond twink that reminded him oh so much of his little blond twink. Masturbating. His hands wrapped around a gigantic cock from which sprouted a wax Prince Albert with a wick. Which was lit. "Fuck! Where did you get this?"

"Gaia."

"She made this?"

"Uh-huh. I designed it." He leaned over and kissed his lover. "So blow it out," he said, laughing.

Barely able to do so for chuckling, Brian finally managed to blow out the candle.

Justin deftly removed the candle from the tip of the cake and said, "I think you should have the first… bite."

With a raised brow, Brian bent over the frosted erection and opened his mouth, then drew back. "If you have a camera on you and this ends up in a photo album, I will kill you."

To assure him that he didn't, Justin patted himself down. "See? I'm unarmed. Now go on. Be careful. There's a dowel inside the cock."

Leaning again, Brian engulfed the head of the cake cock and sucked the frosting from it before biting off the tip. Inside was a creamy filling. Eating, he gestured to the cake and Justin took the second bite—after removing the dowel—reducing his simulacra's dick size by half. Mouths smeared with cream, they kissed, Justin eventually straddling Brian's lap. He could feel his lover's cock beneath him. "Like it?" he asked of the cake.

"I love it," Brian replied. "I love you."

Deciding to save the cake for later, they cleaned up downstairs and then carried the cake and a bottle of champagne upstairs to their bedroom. Justin turned on the stereo and they danced, pressed close together, arms about one another.

 _"you'll be given love  
you'll be taken care of   
you'll be given love   
you have to trust it…"_ 6

Slipping off Justin's sweater, Brian eased him back onto the bed, then removed the rest of his clothes. Afterwards, with Justin's eyes glued to his every moment, he stripped, lingering over each item of clothing until he was completely naked and Justin's cock had slightly thickened. Turning him over and spreading his legs, Brian began to rim him.

Arms folded beneath his head, Justin relaxed and enjoyed his lover's actions and the effect they were having on him. Arching his back, he gasped as Brian encircled his hole. "Feel good?"

"Yes…"

He licked up the middle of his ass. "Better?"

"Yes…" Justin's knees and toes dug into the comforter.

He nosed around Justin's buttocks, probing his hole. Justin reached back and spread his cheeks, inhaling sharply as Brian rimmed him. Then, just as he thought he'd gotten things under control, Brian flipped him over, scooped two fingers' full of cream from his birthday cake and spread it over his asshole.

"Oh, God," he gasped, still a little sore from earlier in the day, as Brian's fingers sank into him and began sliding in and out, establishing a rhythm that left him breathless. He could feel his hole stretching, the edges rolling with each motion of Brian's hand.

Pulling his fingers out of Justin, Brian smeared cream over his cock, then knelt between his open legs and drew them up over his shoulders. Justin reached down and took hold of his cock, stroked it, fed it to his ass. He engulfed the head and shaft, taking them with ease, holding Brian's cock with cream-slicked muscles.

Heedless of the mess, they fucked on the comforter, Brian, at first, kneeling on all fours, Justin's legs over his shoulders; then leaning back, his arms supporting him as he thrust his groin forward, cock entering Justin shallowly. Withdrawing completely after a while, Brian turned his lover over and mounted him from behind, parting his cheeks with his cock, nudging his hole for a moment before sliding through the slippery opening.

Mouth open, Justin panted as they ground against one another. Pushing his hips back to meet Brian's thrusts, Justin squeezed his partner's cock with his hole, pleased to hear Brian's groans of delight. Far from being passive, he garnered great satisfaction from fucking Brian's cock with his ass. Listening to Brian moan, feeling his saliva drip down upon his back, Justin smiled, then shouted helplessly. "Oh… Oh…" he whimpered. Precum spilled from his cockhead onto the bed and he lowered his body onto the comforter, rubbing his throbbing cock against the silky material.

Brian began jabbing his hole fiercely. He wanted to come. Needed to come. His balls felt like they were about to explode and he was burning up. His cock was raw and—and—"Uh!" he cried out and buried his face in Justin's hair. Breath ragged, he continued to pump his lover's hole, feeling it tighten around him, holding him in place, feeling Justin jerk beneath him, spilling his cum onto the comforter. Even after they both ceased to ejaculate, they remained together, taking pleasure from the intense, intimate contact. 

 

Having spent most of the morning in bed, the two men dressed in the afternoon to pursue their separate interests: Justin ensconcing himself in his studio to try and come up with some ideas for his still life painting, Brian taking out his camera and documenting the most recent change to the house and grounds: the herb garden. Just as he was about to head outside, the phone rang. "Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

"Mikey. Where's my present?"

Michael laughed. "I would have brought it over yesterday but I was under strict orders not to set foot on the property until Sunday. What you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Want some company?"

With Michael on the way, Brian started giving some thought to lunch or rather to having a very substantial afternoon snack. They'd had breakfast around eleven which would tide him over for a while but he didn't think he could wait until six to eat again. Justin would probably be occupied all afternoon; when he had a project to work on, he could stay in the studio for hours and not notice the passage of time. He supposed he was the same way when he was tackling a tough campaign; knew he was the same way because Justin had complained about it often enough. Well, he wouldn't complain about Justin—mostly because Mikey was coming over to distract him for a while. 

 

"So what'd Justin get you for your birthday?" They were sitting out in the courtyard, the table and chairs still set up from the night before. Brian had removed the lights and the candles but he and Justin had decided that they liked having the mosaic set out there. At least until they found a larger table.

Brian shrugged. "We had dinner and dessert," at which his lips curled in a half-smiled.

"No present?" asked Michael.

"I told him I didn't want anything."

Pushing him roughly, Michael laughed. "Oh, I see. He doesn't have to give you anything but you want a present from me." He'd picked up a beautiful burgundy shirt that he had been certain Brian would love. And he had.

"I didn't say he didn't give me anything, I said he didn't get me anything." At Michael's confused look, he explained, "He gives me everything. All the time."

Michael shook his head. "I would kill to have Jeff say that about me."

"He will. Look how long it took me to realize that about Justin." Thought about the circumstances, about almost losing Justin, and his face darkened.

Knowing how easily Brian's moods shifted, Michael grasped his arm and squeezed. "I'm so happy for you."

"So you don't think marrying him was a mistake anymore?" teased Brian.

"I know it wasn't. I knew that on your wedding day. I'd never seen you look happier."

Softly, Brian confessed needlessly, "He makes me happy." Just as he was about to say something sarcastic to cut the sweetness of the moment, the doorbell rang. With Michael left to enjoy the sun, he went inside and switched on the intercom in the livingroom. "Yeah?"

"Happy Bir'day, Daddy!"

Secretly, he'd been hoping that the Munchers would bring Gus over. "Which door?"

"Side," replied Lindsay.

So he traveled the length of the house, glancing in the studio to see if Justin was still working, which he was, and let his son and his two mommies in. Gus in his arms, he asked, "You guys staying or what?"

"Going shopping," replied Lindz. "Pick him up tonight? After dinner?"

"Later."

"Where's Mikey and Justin?" Mel asked, having seen Michael's car.

"Justin's working in his studio and Mikey's out in the courtyard."

Lindz grinned. "Have a good birthday?"

"Had a great birthday."

"Saw the garden. Looks good."

Mel added, "Saw where some of your grass looked torn up. Stray cats?" she asked, knowingly.

"Yeah," he replied in a deadpan voice while the two women laughed. Giving Gus big kisses, they departed. Brian buzzed Justin in his studio. When the artist answered, he said, "Gus is here. You ready for a mid-afternoon snack?"

"Daddy!"

"Am I eating Gus?"

"No," said the toddler. "No eat me."

Turned out Michael had to go as he was meeting Jeff so the three men were left alone. Well, not quite alone as Leo had come bounding down the stairs when Gus called. He'd gotten a lot steadier on his feet in the past two months and took the steps like a pro. He and Gus played Catch Me If You Can in the family room while Brian and Justin grilled a couple of roasted chicken and provolone panini. It was such a nice day they carried the food outside and sat in the courtyard and ate. At least the two adults ate, Gus wasn't hungry and after taking a couple of token bites, he was back in the house to play with Leo, promising not to go any further than the livingroom where they could see them. This was not only for Gus' safety but for Leo's as well. Gus, being two, was not exactly wise in the ways of cats and after Justin had caught him trying to put Leo in the fountain, they'd had to sit down and have a very stern talk with him regarding the things he could and could not do with the kitten. Both Brian and Justin foresaw having more of these talks the older Gus got. He had an insatiable curiosity for life and boundless energy, a combination guaranteed to land him in trouble. But they wouldn't have wanted him to be any other way.

Wanting to get back to work, Justin left Brian and Gus to amuse themselves and sequestered himself in his studio again. Brian had a time convincing Gus that Daddy Justin needed to be alone for a while. Finally, he had to agree to push Gus around the neighborhood in his car. They'd bought him a second one to keep at their house because no one wanted to cart the other one between houses.

Although Justin kept threatening Brian with the idea of throwing a housewarming party, they hadn't done so. Primarily because of the construction to the upstairs bathrooms but mostly because they'd been partied out after the wedding and they cherished the time they spent alone. As a result, they hadn't actually met all of their neighbors. Not ones to stroll around the neighborhood on the weekend, they'd only met the families who lived on either side of their house—and Rachel. Actually, Justin had met her. And they'd only met their immediate neighbors because of the construction to the house.

Luckily, today they met no one on their circuit of the neighborhood. Brian wasn't exactly in the mood for it and Gus was being a little fussy, mostly because he missed Leo and Justin. So, they headed back after wandering for fifteen minutes and Brian went to talk to Justin while Gus played with Leo.

Knocking first, he entered the studio and found the young artist gazing out of the window. He kissed him on the back of the neck. "Thought you were working."

Justin picked up his pencil again. "Break."

"Gus wants to spend some time with his Daddy Justin."

Studying the blank page of his sketch pad, Justin replied, "I can't. I need to concentrate."

"Well, Gus has been asking for you."

"He can wait," Justin said tightly.

"For you to finish staring at the pool?"

"I was thinking." Again, his voice was tight, a warning which Brian completely ignored.

"Funny, it looked like you were goofing off."

Justin got up and gestured to the door. "Go away." Added, "Now."

Folding his arms, Brian stood his ground. "Sorry, this is my house." The moment the words came out of his mouth, he knew he'd made a huge mistake. Justin's face shut down and the young man gathered his belongings and exited the space. Brian followed behind him. "Justin. Justin, wait!"

"Fuck you!"

Waking from a cat nap, Gus sat up and rubbed his eyes. Said sleepily, "Daddy…"

"Justin—"

"You deal with it. He's your son," he said and stormed from the house.

With a sigh, Brian sat on the arm of the section and silently berated himself for being such an idiot. "Fuck." Confused, Gus crawled across the seat cushions and laid his head against Brian's thigh, his daddy the only source of stability in a world that had suddenly gotten very scary. Brian looked down and raised him up, held him. "It's okay. Daddy Justin'll be back. I promise." Only, he wasn't as certain as he sounded. 

 

Slamming the door to his studio at the Institute, Justin startled Bledsoe, who said, "I thought you had your own studio at home. Glass walls, sunlight, great view. What the fuck are you doing here?"

What indeed. "I don't want to talk about it," he replied and settled down to work. It wasn't that he didn't use the studio at school any more, he did when he was on campus already, it was just that he hardly ever came in on the weekends. Why would he? He did have a great studio at home. Glass walls, sunlight, great view. Great house. A house he'd believed was just as much his as Brian's. Wrong again, Sunshine. And still he knew Brian hadn't meant what he said, hadn't meant it to sound that way. So why had he gotten so angry? He'd wanted to knock Brian out. Why couldn't he ever have a moment to himself? That's all he'd wanted. Two or three hours to work. What good was it having a home studio if he couldn’t do any work? Why couldn’t Brian keep Gus occupied for a few measly hours? That's all he was asking for. Why was it so hard for Brian to understand that sometimes he needed to be by himself, he needed to think, to concentrate, to be free of all distractions, all concerns, so that he could create?

Well, he wasn't getting much creating done sitting there thinking about Brian. He'd driven all the way in town to school, he might as well use his time constructively. Except that he was no longer in the mood to sketch. All he could do was think about the blow-up they'd had. Think about Rennie asking him how he planned to do it all: be an artist, a student, a husband, a father, and he'd blithely answered that he was already doing all those things, that he'd only do them better once he and Brian were married. Fool. What the fuck had he been thinking? He hadn't been. He'd been floating on a haze of happiness.

How were they going to manage? Brian was busy with work, he was busy with school, with his art… how were they going to balance their careers with raising a family? With being good spouses? Suddenly he felt very young indeed, was aware of the fact that he was only twenty and had no idea how any of this was supposed to work. His parents had failed to make time for one another and, subsequently, their marriage had fallen apart. He didn't want the same thing to happen to him and Brian. Cradling his head in his hand, he whispered, "Shit."

Bledsoe took a moment from his work to come around the partition and say, "Go home and talk to him. My aunt's a therapist and she says the number one thing people do wrong is to let things fester until it's too late. Even if you say the wrong things, it's better to say something than nothing at all." 

 

He heard the door to the Cherokee slam shut and counted to ten. Don't let me fuck this up, he prayed silently. Not certain if he should let Justin make the first move, he decided to wait for an opening. Gus was upstairs finishing his nap. After Justin had left, the toddler had begun to nod again so Brian put him down, along with Leo. He hoped they'd sleep for a while, giving him and Justin time to talk. Sitting at the table, he waited for Justin to find him.

"Hey," said Justin, coming in and putting down his bag, his portfolio and sketch pad.

"Hey."

Joining Brian, Justin took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am. I didn't mean the things I said."

"I know." He paused. "It scares me sometimes."

"What?" Brian leaned forward, waiting for Justin's answer.

"Having to be so many things to so many people." He shook his head. "I'm only twenty-years-old and I'm in college, I've got a husband, a family… Sometimes I wake up in a sweat, terrified that I've done the wrong thing, that I've forgotten something. There's school, and work, and you, and Gus, and our friends… and, sometimes… sometimes I just need to be by myself."

"I see."

"It doesn't mean—"

"It's a lot to ask of you."

"I don't mind. Brian—" he began, exasperated by the fact that his spouse had misunderstood. "I love you," he explained. "I love Gus, I love our life. It's just… it's a lot sometimes to deal with."

"Maybe we should have waited on the house. Maybe we should have waited until you were done with school," Brian suggested.

"And what about Gus? We got the house so we could spend more time with him. Should we have waited on him too? Brian, even if we'd waited until I was done with school, then I'd be busy building a career. Were we supposed to wait forever?"

"No. But… You're right. I guess we just need to deal with it."

"Which is what we're doing. So don't freak out on me." He knew Brian too well.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise." 

 

But it continued to haunt Brian over the next week, especially since Justin was occupied during much of it, working on his painting.

He'd finally come up with an idea, had made the preparatory drawings, and was now in the process of actually painting the canvas. He had another week before he had to turn it in for the end of the year show and he was nervous. Painting was not his forte. Yet, as busy as he was, he could tell that Brian was still concerned about their conversation. Sitting in his studio, he worried about him, his tendency to obsess over problems, to brood. Even though he was still seeing Drew, sometimes he neglected to tell Drew everything that was bothering him, preferring to deal with his problems on his own until things had gotten so fucked up that he was forced to confess everything. He was better about talking things out but he still had a long ways to go. Maybe they both did. When Brian got home, he'd talk to him about it. 

 

Of course, Brian came home and tossed one of his love tokens onto the countertop, wanting to play, and Justin forgot all about his intentions, his attention focused on Brian's cock as he worshiped it, lips and face shiny with precum, sucking the swollen head until the slit gaped open and loads of luscious cum erupted, flowing over his tongue as he drank every drop. Pulling Brian from his mouth, he caressed his shaft, eagerly licking the spooge that continued to ooze from the tip. Brian sighed and muttered, "Mmm…"

Justin kissed the head and lapped a last bit of cum. "Tastes good." He nudged Brian's balls. "I want some more."

Laughing softly, Brian ran his fingers through the hairs at the nape of Justin's neck. "Gotta wait a while."

Tongue slipping behind his lover's sack, Justin said, "I can wait." He rose up. "Long as you keep me occupied."

Kissing the young man, Brian promised, "That can be arranged." He ran his hand over Justin's smooth ass. "Most definitely."

Eyes closed, Justin's lips parted as Brian eased a well-lubed dildo up his hole, having teased it with his tongue and fingers until Justin cried out for more. Kneeling on the bed, Justin leaned forward as the vibrating dildo slid all the way inside him, shaking him to pieces. He loved play time. 

 

The blue silk tie or the grey? Holding them up side-by-side, Brian decided that he was in a blue mood. Besides which, the blue one reminded him of Justin's eyes which was always a good thing.

"You think this is all right?" Justin asked of his outfit.

"I could come with you," Brian offered but Justin shook his head.

"You're busy. Besides, it's just a formality. And," he added, "we can celebrate tonight."

Brian looked over his clothes. Pale blue shirt, navy slacks. "You'll freeze." Justin always felt the cold more than he did.

"I've got a jacket too."

"No tie?"

"I hate ties. They make my head look huge," he explained.

Brian laughed. "Your head is just the right size," he said and kissed Justin, then proceeded to knot his own tie.

"Not that one," said Justin. He tapped his forehead. "This one."

"Nasty boy," Brian commented. "I gotta go." Justin grabbed his suit jacket and followed him downstairs. They kissed again at the door. "Dinner in or out?"

"Let's go out."

"I'll make reservations somewhere. Later."

Justin waved as Brian walked away. 

 

After Chris Hobbs' trial and sentencing, he'd hoped never to set foot in a courtroom again. Still, he reminded himself that this was just a formality. He'd petitioned the court for the name change, had his fingerprints taken for the criminal background check, and advertised his new name in the paper of which he had a copy to submit to the Clerk of Court. Now all he had to do was show up in court and wait for the judge to sign the Order. That is if no one objected; but who would? Just a formality.

Parking the car in a lot down the street, he walked to the courthouse with a lighter step than he'd ever approached it in the past. This time there'd be no protestors, no media, no slogan-shouting spectators and in an hour or so, he would have officially changed his name to Justin Taylor-Kinney. Smiling, he began to climb the steps to the front door of the courthouse when he heard someone call his name.

"Justin."

He turned, not believing it was who he thought. "Dad?"

"Hi."

It had been a while and he didn't know whether to hug his father or to shake his hand. In the end, he just stood there without making any kind of overture. "You here on business?"

Craig looked decidedly uncomfortable. "No, Justin. I'm here to see you."

"Me?" Confused for a moment, understanding cleared up any uncertainties. "You read about me changing my name?"

"Your mother told me."

"Why?"

"She thought I had a right to know."

"It's none of your business." He started to turn but Craig caught his arm.

"Justin. Just—hear me out."

Pulling his arm free, Justin set his face. But he waited. "You've got five minutes and then I have to go."

"Justin, why are you doing this?"

"Brian and I are married now."

"What does that have to do with your name?"

"Mom took your name when you got married."

"Justin…" Craig looked pained.

"I know you don’t recognize our marriage. Fine. And the state of Pennsylvania doesn't either. That's fine too. But there's nothing stopping me from taking Brian's name."

"Is he changing his name?"

"He doesn't have to."

"Neither do you."

"I want to," he explained. "And you can't stop me."

"I can object."

"I'm not a minor. You can object but it won't make a damn bit of difference. All you'll do," he added, "is make me hate you." Craig backed up. "I don't want to hate you, Dad. I wish…" He started again. "I wish you would try to understand." Craig focused on the marbled steps. "I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. He makes me happy. He loves me. And I love him. So I'm doing this." Justin started back up the steps.

"Justin."

He paused.

"I don't approve. But I won't try to stop you."

Justin looked down at his father. "I want you to be a part of my life." He waited to see what Craig would say and when it looked as if he wasn't going to say anything, he glanced away, wanting to go but unable to.

"I want that too, Justin." Craig rubbed his face. "But I can't be. Not as long as you're with him."

Nodding, Justin pulled his coat closer about him. "See you around." He went up the steps quickly without looking back. Once inside the courthouse he found a restroom. Shut himself inside a stall and laid his forehead against the wall. 

 

Order in hand, signed by the judge, he walked back to his car, trying to ascertain if he felt any different now that he was no longer Justin Matthew Taylor but Justin Matthew Taylor-Kinney. Unintentionally, he'd begun to smile. By the time he reached the car, he was beaming. "Yes!" he whispered as he got behind the wheel.

Even though he had afternoon classes, he didn't feel like going to the Institute. Instead he put the car in gear and drove to the diner. He couldn't wait to tell Deb the news.

Striding in like Brian himself, he grinned as he saw her talking with one of the new post-op waitresses, Lola. He waved and she finished her conversation and came over. "Hey, Sunshine. What are you doing here? You don't work until tomorrow."

"Just came back from court."

"Court?" She frowned, then remembered. "Oh, Sunshine, is it final?"

"Yep." He smiled broadly.

Squealing, she made him sit down in a booth and got them both a slice of blueberry pie to celebrate. "This is so exciting."

"We're going out to dinner tonight. I can't wait until I get my new driver's license, and Social Security Card, and change my records at school, and shit! that’s a lot of forms to fill out." His head ached just thinking about it.

"Justin Taylor-Kinney. Has a nice ring to it."

The smile returned. "It does, doesn't it?" Then he remembered. "My dad showed up."

"What?"

"My mom told him I was changing my name and he showed up to try and stop me." He held his fork loosely in his fingers. "I told him that I wanted him to be a part of my life." Pushed a few bits of crust about the plate. "But he said that he couldn't. Not as long as I was with Brian."

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I still have Brian."

"And Jennifer and Molly and Joanie and, God help us, Claire and her kids. And you have all of us, your friends, who love you too. And we'll always be there for you, no matter what." Which made him smile again. "That's my Sunshine." 

 

They'd met at home to change clothes before going out and for a moment it seemed as if they might not actually make their reservations as they began kissing and helping one another undress which led to making out on the bed and before they knew it they were about two seconds from making love when they remembered that they were supposed to be at the restaurant in twenty minutes.

"Fuck," swore Brian as he pulled away from Justin who was very aroused and looked very sexy with his tousled hair and slightly parted lips. Shaking his head, Brian stumbled to the closet to find something to wear.

Arriving at the restaurant a mere ten minutes late, they were relieved to find that their table was still available. Tucked away in the back of the dining room where they could treasure their privacy. Brian held Justin's chair for him, making the young man blush as always, and took his own seat across from him. Reached for Justin's hand and smiled. "Justin Taylor-Kinney, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

"Kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"I like your tongue," Justin said and then covered his face as he realized the waiter had arrived and most likely had heard his last statement.

"He'll have a Tongue Tangler and I'll have a martini," grinned Brian before he kissed Justin's fingers. The waiter smiled and went to put in their orders.

Justin freed his fingers and stroked Brian's cheek. "I love you."

"Better."

When the waiter returned, Justin conquered his embarrassment to ask him, "What band is that?" The song had kind of a twanging Indian melody line over a trip-hop beat and it worked for him.

"Massive Attack," the guy replied. "Mezzanine album."

"Sweet." He smiled at Brian. "I like it."

 _"Recollect me darling raise me to your lips  
Two undernourished egos four rotating hips   
Hold on to me tightly I'm a sliding scale   
Can't endure then you can't inhale   
Clearly   
An out-of-body experience…"_ 7

"Everything went okay today?" Brian asked between sips of his martini.

"Yeah." Justin covered the lie by concentrating on his drink.

"Sure?"

Sometimes he felt as if Brian could read his mind when he knew, in truth, that Brian was just good at reading his body language. Of course, with the way he was acting, a blind man could read it. "My dad showed up."

"Oh?"

"He was really upset about me changing my name but he didn't stop me."

"Don't think he could."

"He couldn't," Justin admitted. "He says he can't be a part of my life if I'm with you."

Brian rubbed the top of Justin's finger with his. "That a problem?"

"No."

"Sure?"

Turning his hand over, Justin held onto Brian's. "Positive."

_"in my home no chrome as clear as  
see me now with my nearest dearest   
been there when i'm over careering   
room shifting is endearing   
between us is our kitchen…" _

As he came through the doors, Cynthia looked up and handed him a message.

"He called this morning?"

"Yeah. Seemed a little anxious."

"Well…" Leaving her at that, he went inside his office and shut the door. They'd get to his schedule later. Right now he had to decide what to do about the message he'd received. Despite seeming eager to view the one drawing Justin had completed of Brian, Kenneth hadn't contacted them since the wedding. Busy with the renovations, Brian hadn't worried, hadn't read anything into it. Justin, for his part, was happy not to have to think about Harris. Besides, they were newlyweds, had better things to do.

 _What the fuck did Kenneth want and why couldn't it have waited until later?_ Well, there was no time like the present to find out.

Kenneth came on the line shortly after Brian dialed his private number. "You're in."

"What can I do for you?" Best to keep things on a professional level.

"Need to take a meeting. We've got a new product and we'd like to discuss marketing strategies with you."

"Sure. My calendar's free."

"Would you mind flying out here this week? Say Thursday maybe? Spend a couple of days with us? We'll have you back home on Saturday."

"This Thursday." He hoped the tone of his voice conveyed his displeasure. It'd be enough time for him to see Justin's show but…

"I know it's short notice—actually," Kenneth explained, "I've been wanting to discuss this with you for a while but with moving, planning for the wedding, and dealing with the new house, I figured you had enough on your plate. We're pretty excited around here," he continued when Brian said nothing. "Could be the very thing to take us to the next level. Instant brand name recognition, total market penetration, that's what we're looking at."

It was difficult not to become infected by Kenneth's enthusiasm and there were few phrases more pleasing to an advertiser's ears than 'total market penetration'. It was definitely a sexual thing. "Thursday it is," he said finally. "You wanna give me any more details?"

"I'd rather you see things for yourself. No preconceived notions."

"Fine. We'll make the arrangements on this end and bill you."

"I'll see you Thursday morning then."

As he buzzed Cynthia, Brian wondered how he was going to break the news to Justin. 

 

He heard Justin puttering in the kitchen as he came in the side door and smiled. Maybe he'd be in time to help. Serving as Justin's sous chef was one of the things he did to relax after a stressful day. Chopping vegetables took his mind off of advertising by focusing his attention on the task at hand. And, as an added bonus, the executive chef was very easy on the eyes. Putting down his briefcase, Brian wrapped his arms around Justin's waist and kissed him along the line of his jaw. "Hey."

"Hey," the younger man replied, turning in his lover's arms to embrace him as well and kiss him upon the lips.

"Mmm…"

"Miss me?"

"Terribly."

Justin smiled and broke from Brian's hold. "You gonna shower or help me?"

"Let me change and I can help you. And then we can shower together later," he suggested with a lascivious grin. "Where's Leo?" He was surprised the kitten wasn't with Justin, getting in the way the way he usually did.

"Around. He's been exploring every since I got home. I think he probably slept most of the day."

"He slept most of the night."

"He's a baby. That's what they do."

"I think it's more like he's a cat and that's what they do."

As if he'd heard Brian's voice, Leo came padding in from the family room and meowed. The man nudged him with his toe, then left to go change, the kitten following down behind him as fast as his short legs could carry him. Although he was growing by leaps and bounds, he was still a bit clumsy, and occasionally he tripped over his own feet which always made Brian and Justin laugh. But, he'd get right back up again and continue on. Same way Gus had when he'd been learning to walk. More than once Brian had commented on the similarities between the toddler and the kitten. And like Gus, Leo seemed to love Brian without hesitation. Halfway up the stairs, Brian scooped Leo up and carried him the rest of the way, figuring it would be easier than waiting for the cat to negotiate the steps. He was pretty good at getting up them, just slow and Brian was anxious to change and return downstairs. 

 

"So," asked Justin as Brian settled down at the island to peel potatoes, "how was work?"

"Same." Kenneth called and I have to go running. Not wanting to bring it up right now, Brian decided to wait until later, hoping for a more fortuitous moment—not that he believed there was such a thing. "Ow!" exclaimed Brian. He'd been teasing Leo, swinging his foot to and fro and the kitten, predictably, had hooked his toe.

"You keep forgetting he has claws."

"I don't know how. They're always in me."

"We could get him declawed."

"Nope," said Brian. He was firm on that point even though they risked their furniture and curtains. So far they'd been able to dissuade him from clawing things. Except for Brian.

"Well, we're going to have to get him fixed."

"No way."

"Brian—"

"The balls stay. Everything in its place." That had been his philosophy when the Munchers had wanted to circumcise Gus and it was his philosophy when it came to fixing Leo. Brian stroked the cat's back with his foot. "Isn't that right, Leo?" And Leo purred softly, basking in the attention.

Which served him well later on while his two owners played without him. Once the water came on, he scurried away and padded back to the bedroom to wait.

One day apart and it was as if they'd been separated for years.

"I missed you," Justin whispered as Brian squeezed a palm full of bath gel and worked it into a lather on his little boy's skin. Hands around Justin's shoulders, Brian made his way down the younger man's arms, then across his chest, fingers encircling his nipples before teasing them. Justin pressed his back against Brian's chest, feeling the hard nubs of his lover's nipples rubbing his shoulder blades. The twin sensations were arousing. Taking hold of Brian's hand, he guided it down his torso to his groin. "Yes," he sighed as Brian wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to slowly stroke him. Closing his eyes, he rested against Brian's body and gave himself over to his lover's sure touch. Brian knew how to make him feel good. His hands slipped down between Justin's thighs, then up again to enclose his cock and balls. As he stroked Justin, Brian rubbed his scrotum too, gently kneading his sac until his testicles grew firm. Justin reached back and ran his hands over Brian's hips. He could feel his lover's cock stiffening against his thigh.

"I love you," Brian told him as he removed his hands from his crotch. He dropped to his knees and held Justin's cock up to his lips. Kissed the tip. "I love you." Opened his lips and let the head pass through to the inside of his mouth. Tongue flicked over the slit and withdrew. Brian released him, then went about licking his cock while Justin squirmed. Head twisting, tongue ever busy, Brian lapped him until Justin's dick was shiny with saliva. Now that Justin was slick and hard, Brian began to suck him. Cheeks hollow, he went down on his lover, cock sliding between his lips with ease, tip brushing the roof of his mouth. Soon he tasted precum. Letting Justin go, Brian swiped the tip with his tongue. Pressed on either side of his cock head, forcing his slit to open, and licked the bead of precum as it appeared.

Justin groaned as Brian continued to suck precum from his cock. He was so hard, so ready to blow, he could hardly contain himself. And Brian's tongue just kept teasing him, torturing him. His cock felt huge and so hard… Leaning back against the shower seat, Justin fell onto it, head thrown back, legs open wide. Brian continued to bob over his lap, to draw his lips over the shaft, pressing hard about the head, sucking Justin until the younger man began to moan, sound bubbling from between his lips. Grabbing Brian's head in his hands, Justin arched his back, then slumped against the wall. "Brian…"

With a kiss, Brian freed Justin's cock from his mouth. "Baby…" Curled his tongue about the swollen head and licked it again.

"Fuck me," Justin begged in a whisper. "Fuck me." 

 

Curled around him, Justin lay with his head on Brian's chest. "That was perfect."

"Isn't it always?"

"Mm-hmm. But that was extra perfect," he replied drowsily.

Brian stroked his hip. "I'm glad because I've got to go out of town this week." He hadn't intended to blurt it out so baldly but it was said now and couldn’t be unsaid.

"Out of town?" Justin kept his voice neutral but his body betrayed him, tensing. "You'll be there Wednesday?" The night of the show.

Brian drew him closer. "Leaving Thursday morning. I'll be back Saturday."

Even though he knew the answer, Justin asked anyway. "Where?"

Without hesitation—because he knew if he hesitated, Justin would read into it—he replied, "Birmingham. New product line." That was the way, keep it low-key, act like it was a reasonable request—and it was—and maybe they'd get through this without a major Drama Princess Moment.

"Didn't waste any time," Justin commented. _In coming after you again._

Choosing not to address the subtext—which had been communicated quite clearly—Brian, instead, responded to the overt question. "I think they've been sitting on this for a while, waiting until the move and the wedding were over."

"How considerate."

His tone said otherwise. So Brian had to deal with it now. "Baby—"

"I know. It's business." He shut out the voice in his head that said, "It's Kenneth," because that would get them nowhere, another discussion about Kenneth and his not-so-hidden agenda. Justin had really believed that, after having seen them marry, Kenneth's attitude and objectives would change. Stupid.

The last thing he wanted was to have another discussion/argument about Kenneth Harris and his motives. He wanted to lie next to his partner and fall asleep without a care. But how could he now when the spectre of Harris hovered around their bed? Just as he was about to speak again, Justin raised up and kissed him, then settled down to sleep. From the foot of the bed where he'd been watching them, came Leo, finding a place on the opposite side of Brian, near the edge of the mattress. Eventually, Justin would work his way to his side of the bed and the kitten would move into the vacated spot between them but, for now, he was content just to be near Brian. 

 

Recognizing the signs of exhibition anxiety as he'd come to term it, Brian tried to be as supportive as possible of his young artist, not even commenting on Justin's less than impressive wardrobe choice although the sight of him in his Dawson Creek ensemble was akin to waving a red cloak in front of a bull. Biting his tongue, he decided to dress down himself, slipping on his low-rider jeans and a black tee-shirt.

Justin, who had been absent-mindedly dressing, seem to come out of a fog and asked, "Are you ready?" seeing Brian's outfit and not really believing that he was actually going to wear it.

"Yeah." He grabbed his thigh-length black leather jacket and slid it on. "We doing this thing or what?"

With the jacket on, Brian looked more like the man he knew. Smiling, Justin said, "Come on. There are masses to be wowed."

Knowing exactly what he meant, Brian said, instead, "You mean your painting is that good?"

"You." He chuckled and led the way out.

In the car Brian asked, "Is Nana Rose coming up?" He was actually fond of her, despite her connection to Xavier. In reality, he was beginning to like Xavier again, now that the unpleasantness of last year was over. It helped that he was involved with Trey and that it had lasted this long. Helped that he and Justin were married, that their relationship was solid in spite of the occasional spat.

"I don't think so. Xavier said she couldn't get the time off from work."

"Trey coming?"

"Can't. He's got to defend his Honors thesis and he's freakin' out."

"Hmm."

Justin couldn't believe that Brian actually cared one way or the other. Still, he'd asked.

"Rennie's parents making it?"

"Yeah, and they're bringing Picasso, Rodin, and Isamu Noguchi with them."

Cutting his eyes at his husband, Brian replied, "I guess that means no."

Justin felt bad for his friend. "Her folks are so lame. All that money and they can't be bothered to hop a flight to Pittsburgh. I bet they don't even come to graduation." He fiddled with the radio then cut it off. "This semester lasted a thousand years."

"Well," Brian commented, "summer vacation's coming up, you can relax."

"There's still work and the commission for Kenneth Harris."

"It's not like you have to work full-time at the diner and Kenneth will wait. He didn't give you a deadline for the sketches."

"No, but he'd probably like them sooner rather than later."

"He never even asked about the one you finished," Brian pointed out although, in a way, he was glad. There was something about the sketch, it made him feel naked, exposed, and it wasn't just the fact that he'd been naked except for his burnt sienna sweater. Justin had managed to capture something essential about him in the drawing and he didn't know if he really wanted Kenneth to be in possession of a part of him. Mikey's voodoo jokes aside, it made him feel a little uneasy.

"Maybe you can ask him when you see him tomorrow."

Making no promises, Brian replied, "Maybe."

Despite the breezy way he spoke of Kenneth, Justin was far from pleased with the fact that Brian was going to see him. Even though it was for business, he knew Kenneth, knew how much the man wanted Brian. Despite having watched them marry, despite his declaration of friendship, Justin still didn't trust him. Not entirely. And no way would he ever pass up an opportunity to try and win Brian for himself. Especially when Justin was back in Pittsburgh and he was on his home turf. Being his charming self, dazzling Brian with his wit and sophistication, his worldliness, his business savvy and acumen. Justin had wanted to ask Brian not to go, to send someone else in his place but who else was there? And if he did ask him, what would that say to Brian except that he didn't trust him? Only he did. He did trust Brian. He just didn't trust Kenneth, no matter what the man had said.

Noticing how quiet Justin had got, Brian incorrectly assumed it was because of the show. In order to minimize his nervousness about his painting, they'd exempted their friends and family from coming. Brian had reiterated that exemption when he'd called around to make certain that none of them decided to ignore their request and show up. "You can see it in the house," he'd told them since they intended to hang Justin's artwork in the gallery space.

It was a much less stressful affair for Justin this year in many ways. Last year they'd been recovering from their fiasco with Xavier and he'd been terrified that Brian would see the true state of their affairs revealed in the triptych he'd done. And he had, recognizing them and their relationship in the series of sketches. This year the subject matter wasn't at issue, it was the medium itself. Still, it'd be over soon. They'd go in, mingle, browse the artworks on display, take a quick look at his, and go home. The evening would be over in an hour or so and they could put it behind them.

Entering the hall, they found Xavier and Rennie hanging around the door, as if waiting for them.

"Hey, Brian," said Rennie and Justin laughed.

"Hey, Rennie," he said and she glanced at him without speaking before turning her attention back to Brian.

Who smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Hey, Terror Girl."

Xavier and Justin cracked up.

"So, where's the cheap wine?" Brian asked.

Rennie took his arm. "I'll show you."

"Bring you something back?" Brian inquired of Justin.

"Yourself. Untouched. And a glass of white wine if they have it." Watching Rennie escort Brian towards the bar, Justin shook his head. She'd never give up. Neither would Kenneth. That was the truth that Brian refused to acknowledge.

Noticing the change in his expression, Xavier asked, "Something wrong?" Justin had been ecstatic Monday afternoon, having successfully—and legally—changed his name to Taylor-Kinney.

"Brian's going on a business trip. To see Kenneth Harris."

"Oh," he said, understanding completely. He'd seen the way Harris had looked at Brian during the wedding reception and he figured Justin definitely had something to worry about. Still, he said, "Brian wouldn't give him the time of day. He's got his Boy Wonder, what would he want with Harris?"

Maybe nothing but Kenneth would give him everything, unasked. All Brian had to do was to accept it.

"He loves you," Xavier reminded him. "You two are like," he laughed, "I don't know, some kind of romance novel, J. You go through hell but you always end up together."

"Why do we have to? Why can't we just live happily ever after and fuck all the rest of this shit?"

"I don't know. Maybe cause life ain't easy."

"I'm not asking for easy, I'm just asking for a break."

"It's just a business trip, J. He'll go, spend a few days in a crappy hotel in the deep fuckin' South, and he'll come running home to you." Like always.

Smiling and shaking his head, Justin said, "You're right. I'm being a Drama Princess."

"Do what you do best," grinned Xavier.

"Fuck you." But Justin grinned too. "Let's go look around. Rennie's probably got Brian held up in a corner somewhere trying to grope him."

Turns out she had taken him to see her painting, a beautiful still life done in the manner of Vermeer. The light seem to shine from someplace deep within the painting, giving every object a golden sheen. Of course, the objects were somewhat less traditional than the technique. She'd chosen to paint a grouping of sex toys. Leaning in to Brian, she whispered, "You inspired me."

He laughed and kissed her on the lips briefly. "Too much, Terror Girl."

Justin didn't know what to say and Xavier just blushed and moved on.

Xavier's painting was just as technically proficient although it reminded Justin more of Cezanne, the colors vibrant, the objects seemingly in motion, at odds with the very idea of a still life. As with Rennie, he'd chosen untraditional subjects: garbage in an alley, something he would have seen every day of his life growing up in DC. Somehow, he'd endowed the humble objects with a beauty that belied the ugliness of the context.

"You've got a future in advertising," Brian told him. "Anyone who can make garbage look like that would have no problems selling fuckin' ugly shoes," he said, remembering the hideous shoes that had brought him and Kip Thomas together.

"Sorry," said Rennie, "Xavier's an artiste. He intends on starving for his art, isn't that right?"

"Personally," Xavier told her, "I like to eat. Three meals a day plus snacks if I can get them. And," he added, "I do love the bling bling."

She laughed cause Xavier was the one of the few people she knew, besides Justin and Brian, who didn't wear any kind of chain around his neck. He said it reminded him of slavery too much. She'd decided not to ask him why the numerous piercings and tattoos didn't.

"I wanna see yours," Brian said to Justin.

"No point in putting it off," he replied and he took Brian to where his painting hung.

He'd taken as his starting point Henri Matisse, who, having been influenced by Cezanne, also employed bright colors and patterns to suggest movement and life in what was a representation of stillness. Entitled "Brian as a Still Life" it displayed a pair of cut-off shorts, tennis shoes, and a white tank top lying on the floor of the bathroom. The vibrant blue of the shorts and the white of the tank top and shoes contrasted wonderfully with the rich red terra cotta floor and the warm sienna walls. The faux paint on the walls and the grid-like pattern of the floor added movement to the painting, as did the position of the discarded clothes that suggested they'd just been dropped off and Brian had just stepped out of view of the painting into the shower.

"Wow," said Brian. "That's beautiful."

"You're biased."

"Most definitely. But I'm not blind. It'll look fabulous out in the gallery." He turned to include Xavier and Rennie. "All of them would. What do you think?"

"How much you paying?" Xavier asked although he didn't intend to take their money.

"Bargain with me," Brian told him.

A twinkle in his eye, Xavier retorted, "That'd be like making deals with the devil," and Brian laughed. He couldn’t disagree. 

 

Thrilled at the way the evening had turned out, Justin basked in the warmth of his partner's arms. They'd come home and made love in anticipation of spending way too many days apart, the first time they'd be apart since getting married. "It'll be strange, having dinner alone at home."

"You've had dinner alone at home since the wedding."

"Yeah, but you were just at the office, not in another state."

Kissing him on the temple, Brian reassured him, "I'll be back before you even start to miss me." Justin didn't bother to state the obvious, that he already missed him. They both knew that he did, there was no point in voicing it. "Besides, you'll have Leo. And Gus." The toddler was coming over on Friday to spend the weekend. "You'll be too busy to think about poor old me in hot-assed Birmingham."

"Please, you'll be in air conditioned comfort the entire time," snorted Justin. Brian was not one for walking around outside in hot weather.

"Don't blame me for being fragile," he joked, expecting Justin to laugh but he didn't.

Instead he fixed his eyes on his partner and said quite seriously, "Take care of yourself."

Kissing him once more, Brian assured him that he would. 

 

Thursday morning came much sooner than they'd have liked and Brian found himself dawdling as he finished packing and got ready to drive himself to the airport.

"Sure you don't want me to take you?" Justin asked again. "No point in paying airport parking if you don't have to."

"I might be able to fly back earlier than planned."

"Or you might have to stay later."

"I'll be back Saturday afternoon if not earlier," Brian assured him.

Throwing on his robe, Justin headed downstairs. "I'll get breakfast."

It was four o'clock. Brian didn't feel like eating but if Justin fixed something, he would eat it, the least he could do to try and ameliorate the coed's feelings about the trip. Leo had awakened with them but was too sleepy to do much more than notice their rising and then close his eyes again. Sitting at the island counter in the kitchen, they half-heartedly nibbled on bagels with cream cheese and crunched a couple slices of bacon each. Brian had washed some strawberries which they imbibed as well, along with a super strong cup of coffee for him and orange juice for Justin.

Having eaten, Brian gathered his bag and his briefcase and loaded them into the Jeep. Returned to the house for a final farewell. Stood embracing Justin by the back stairs and tried to disregard the apprehension in his eyes. He kissed him sweetly on the lips and then on the forehead. "See you Saturday."

"Call me when you can."

"Tonight. Promise." One last kiss and then he turned and walked out of the house without looking back.

Inside, Justin closed the door, then cleared away the dishes, and returned to bed. Only, he couldn't sleep. Lying on Brian's side, he inhaled his scent, still clinging to his pillow. He'd be back on Saturday. Just two days away. 

 

After an uneventful flight, he disembarked in Birmingham and found the car that waited to take him to Hyperion. And Kenneth. During the journey to Alabama, he'd tried to clear his mind of any thoughts except for business but hadn't been able to. He missed Justin already. Had been tempted two or three times to call him on his cell and had refrained.

On the ride to the complex, he turned over in his mind all the reassurances he'd given Justin and prayed that they had been needless. Maybe Kenneth really was ready to give up on the hope of a sexual relationship. Maybe they could be friends and nothing more.

Stepping out of the car and seeing Kenneth waiting just inside the massive glass doors of the Hyperion building, Brian felt his stomach knot up. Being the master of the poker face, he ignored the feeling and smiled brightly as they shook hands.

"Marriage seems to be agreeing with you," Kenneth said. "Thanks for tearing yourself away."

"I'm sure you'll make it worth my while." Then he added, "Increasing Hyperion's advertising budget, maybe," just to make certain Harris understood that there was nothing personal at stake for him. It was just business.

"Possibility."

"So when do I hear about this fabulous new development that's going to make Hyperion Biotechnics a household name?"

Kenneth laughed. "Maybe not Hyperion Biotechnics. We'll have to come up with a suitable brand name for our new subdivision. I'm hoping you can help us out with that as well."

Anxious to find out what was going on, Brian asked, "So what exactly are we talking about?" 

 

Brian tossed the folder of materials down on the tabletop. "Anti what?"

"Antithrombotics."

"In English."

"Stroke medication."

"Lucrative market?"

"Stroke is the third leading cause of death in the United States."

"So what's your drug do?"

"Remove blood clots. See, there are two types of strokes: ischemic and hemorrhagic. Both have to do with a disruption in blood flow. With an ischemic stroke, usually there's an obstruction caused by a blood clot, so doctors try to restore blood flow to the brain. In a hemorrhagic stroke, a blood vessel usually ruptures and doctors have to stop the hemorrhaging."

"So what's so special about your product?"

"The market." Kenneth grinned. "Ask me how many drugs are currently available to treat ischemic strokes?"

"How many?"

Kenneth held up one finger.

"Fuck…" Brian said in awe.

"We would be the second."

Having gotten over his initial excitement, a question came to mind. "But why would anyone buy your drug as opposed to the other?"

"Window of opportunity."

"Explain."

"Person has a stroke, doesn't really know that's what's happening. Maybe sits around the house for an hour or so, doesn't feel any better, goes to the hospital. Unless there's a stroke unit in the hospital, people experienced with recognizing the signs of a stroke, more time goes by."

"So?"

"So the therapeutic window for the other drug is three hours. Unless a person gets to the hospital and is diagnosed with having had a stroke within those first three hours, the drug is useless."

"And no one's come up with a drug that works with a larger window?"

"Lots of clinical trials, all of us in a tight race to get FDA approval. Everyone trying to come up with a drug that works and extends the window while minimizing the risk of massive brain damage to the patient. Doesn't do you any good to have a drug that works at twelve hours if the person's lost functioning in half their brain."

"How long is the window for your drug?"

"Six. Hours."

"That's double the time that's out there." Even as a layman that was an impressive figure.

"Uh-huh."

"And FDA approval?"

"In the bag."

Flipping open the folder once more and picking up his pen, Brian said, "Take it from the beginning. And talk slowly. It's been a while since I had biology or chemistry."

Yet, somehow, Kenneth doubted Brian had any problems with either subject. 

 

He'd forgotten how much he liked working with Kenneth. Although he spent some of the day away from Harris, they were in enough meetings together for him to remember why he'd been drawn to the man in the first place: he was sharp, smart, witty, and serious about business even though he didn't take himself too seriously. He spoke his mind, no bullshit, but he listened to other people's opinions too —if they made sense. As the day drew to a close, Brian found himself feeling warmer towards Harris than he had in a while. He'd missed the give and take between them. So when Kenneth invited him to dinner, he accepted.

"I just need to call Justin." There hadn't been a moment in the day when he'd had a chance to do so and if he waited until after dinner, Justin would be furious. He found a quiet place to talk and rang him.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Baby."

"I didn't think I'd hear from you until later."

"I got a break before dinner. What'd you do today?"

"Cleared the stuff from my studio at school and brought it home. Helped Xavier and Rennie pack." He paused. "You having dinner with Kenneth?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I told Xavier and Rennie I'd hang with them."

"Good." Justin needed to stay busy, stay occupied; less time to think about him and Kenneth.

"Look, I'd better go. They're waiting. Call me tomorrow?"

"Uh-huh."

"I love you."

"Love you too." He closed his phone and smiled, glad that Justin wasn't sitting at home pining for him. It made being with Kenneth easier.

Seeing him come from down the hall, Kenneth beckoned to him. "I got us reservations at Ocean."

"Is that a good thing?"

Kenneth laughed. "A great thing, my friend. Best seafood in town. Menu is out of this world."

Holding up his hands, Brian said, "I trust you." After all, Kenneth's standards were pretty high and he had a phenomenal chef in his employ.

"You wanna change first?"

Brian thought about it. "This'll do." No point in tempting him. Maybe if they went in businessmen drag, things would stay on that level and not degenerate into something personal. 

 

"Ha!" he chortled. "You did not."

"I did," replied Kenneth with a grin.

"Shit." Brian shook his head in admiration. "That I would have liked to have seen."

"The guy was a lazy asshole who had been coasting on his reputation for years," he said of the scientist he'd shown up at some conference. "I just thought it was time somebody called him on it."

"You're something else, you know that?" Brian finished his wine and tapped the rim suddenly bashful. He hadn't intended to say that and hoped that Kenneth would overlook his unintended admission.

Harris covered his own reaction by downing the rest of his wine as well. He'd been touched by Brian's words. "So," he asked, "how's Justin?"

"Good. They had their final show yesterday."

"How's the commission coming?"

Brian made a face. "He's got one finished and he's been thinking about the second piece, what it should be."

"Any ideas?"

"Something about the water."

At which point Kenneth began having visions of Brian standing naked beneath a showerhead.

"But he's not sure. Waiting for inspiration, he says."

"Hmm…" Kenneth didn't say what he was thinking, which was that Brian was inspiration enough for any man. "The next time I'm in town, I'll have to come see what he's done." He studied Brian's face. "I can't imagine anyone…" Let the thought and the words trail off, hoping the feelings would drift away from him, only they did not. I can't imagine anyone capturing those eyes, that face… Christ, he's beautiful. He looked slightly away then back again, unable to help himself.

Checking the watch he only wore during business hours, Brian said, "I think it's my bedtime." He couldn't meet Kenneth's eyes.

"I'll call for the car." He signaled their waiter and asked for the bill, then dialed his chauffeur. Time to go home. Alone. 

 

There had been a moment, just before he'd gotten from the car when he'd almost invited Kenneth up for a drink but he'd known that once Kenneth was there, it would be next to impossible for him to leave again. So he'd said nothing. And now he sat alone in his room, stripped down to his undies, sitting on the bed smoking the cigarette he hadn't allowed himself all day, wondering if he could end his trip early and go home tomorrow. Picking up his cell, he called Justin, hoping that he'd returned from dinner. When no one answered after three rings, he started to hang up and then he heard the click of the phone and, "Hello?"

"Hey."

"What's up?" Tense, wary.

"Just thought I'd call to say goodnight."

Immediately he relaxed. "Remember that time when you called me to say goodnight? I had complained that you never kissed me goodnight and then you called to say it." He paused. "I always wondered why. What made you do it?"

Brian shrugged although Justin couldn't see him. "No reason," he replied, lying. There had been a reason. He'd been going over in his mind what it would be like if Justin went away for school, if they had to say goodbye and start over again without one another. And it had saddened him to think that he was losing Justin even though he hadn't admitted to himself or to Justin how much he needed him. How much he loved him. "It wasn't a big deal."

"It was a huge deal. I still remember us talking in Babylon about giving up my dreams, about sacrificing my needs to satisfy my parents. It was the first time I really realized how much you cared. How much you loved me." Justin waited a moment. "Seems so long ago."

"Ages."

"I never thought we'd get this far," he admitted.

"Me neither," and he chuckled softly. "Night, Baby." Better hang up before they both got maudlin. Or horny. Neither of which would do them any good.

Justin apparently agreed. "Night."

Brian put down the phone and laid back on the bed, sending futile smoke signals from the tip of his cigarette, yet satisfied and fortified for the coming day. 

 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he wondered if he was making a mistake having dinner with Kenneth tonight at his place. The only reason he'd accepted was that he didn't want to bother with going to a restaurant after the hectic day they'd had at the complex. Exhausted but still wound up, he'd come back to the hotel, changed into his sweats, and gone jogging in Linn Park which was only a few blocks away from the Crowne Plaza. Wished he'd brought his cellphone as the park had a fountain in the middle and an iron pavilion. The fountain had reminded him of Leicester Square; and Justin had petitioned him to think about having a pavilion or gazebo built at the far end of the back yard. He'd told him that there was too much going on in the yard already and he didn't think a pavilion would do anything but clutter up the place. Justin had not been amused.

He checked his outfit again. Calvin Klein Spring 2003 collection. Normally he didn't wear a lot of CK cause he thought the brand was overexposed and definitely overhyped but Justin had picked out the shirt and slacks so he wore them occasionally to please him. Short-sleeved, three-button black shirt and a pair of black pants that Justin declared to be "perfect" but that he thought flapped around his legs way too much. Of course, all of Justin's pants were baggy so yeah, to him, they were perfect. Plus Brian thought the crotch was way too low. Nevertheless, he wore them. Had to admit, he did look sexy. Smiling slyly at the mirror, he suddenly frowned. He did not want to look sexy. What he wanted was to look very, very married. Very happily married.

And he was. So what had that impulse last night been about? "Nothing," he told himself. Idle curiosity.

But it'd been more than that. There was no point in trying to deceive himself. He was attracted to Kenneth, always had been. Didn't mean that he was going to run off with him or even allow himself to be tempted by the man, it just meant… that he was attracted to him. _So what's wrong with that?_ he asked himself. _Nothing. As long as he keeps his hands to himself._

On an impulse he called Justin. Not on his cell, just in case he was busy, but at home. Got the machine. "Hey, Baby. Just called to say I'll be home tomorrow with my virtue intact. Talk to you later." He paused. "I love you." Hung up and got ready to go downstairs to meet the car that would take him to Harris' home. 

 

Kenneth tried not to stare as Brian stepped over the threshold, tried not to notice how gorgeous he looked decked out in black and silver—the silver being his sterling silver bracelet and platinum wedding ring. Kenneth focused on that fact as he greeted his guest. _He's married. I was at his fucking wedding. Cool down and just breathe._ But every time Brian moved his arm and the silver bracelet caught the light, he found himself mesmerized by his strong yet somehow delicate-looking wrist. And his fingers… Kenneth couldn't tear his eyes away from his hands, even when he was confronted by the wedding band. After a while, he could tell that Brian had noticed and the resulting self-consciousness saddened him.

"I wish you wouldn't," Brian said softly, picking up the drink Harris had fixed for him.

"Wouldn't what?" he asked even though he knew.

"Look at me like that." Which, of course, made Kenneth feel awkward as well. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"We can't even eat together?"

"I'm married."

"I haven't forgotten. How could I? Every fuckin' time I look at you, there it is. That ring!"

Setting his glass down once more, he started to stand. "I should—"

"Brian—I'm sorry. Please… Give me another chance."

A voice in the back of his mind that sounded not surprisingly like Justin asked, _"To do what?"_ Then said, _"Go back to the hotel and forget it. Forget about him,"_ but he ignored the voice. Wearily he asked, "Why do you always do this?"

Kenneth thought of a dozen lies he could tell Brian but he couldn't lie to him, could only tell the truth. "Because I love you. And it kills me—"

"Stop it."

"If I can't love you, fine, that's your prerogative. But I ought to have the right to say how I feel. In my own home."

The evening had quickly spiraled out of control. "I should never have come."

"Brian—"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

They were silent for a while, then Kenneth said, "I'm sorry. I swear to you, I promise myself every goddamn time that I won't make a fool of myself and then I see you… and every good intention…"

"Why do we always end up having the same fucking conversation?"

Angrily, Kenneth said, "You tell me what to do, how to stop feeling this way, and I'll do it!"

He studied the faint pattern woven into the napkins, something he never noticed even in his own. Anything to keep from focusing on the growing feeling of vertigo that seemed to have taken hold of him. "What do you want from me?"

"Everything," he replied honestly although he knew that Brian hated to hear it.

He left the table. Walked around the beautifully appointed room not seeing anything at all, the designer's craft wasted on him. Lost in thought. Going over all some of the more difficult moments in his life, the tough decisions he'd made, not knowing at the time where he'd found the strength—or the stupidity—to make some of them. When he spoke, it was as if someone else was talking, at least, that's what he hoped considering what he was proposing. "I'll stay with you tonight. Stay here. Be with you."

Kenneth half-rose from his seat, on the verge of accepting.

"But we give up this pretense of being friends. We fuck and then that's it." He stared at a painting on the wall, blind to the gorgeous colors, the skillful brushstrokes, the exquisite details. "That's the end of our acquaintance. Outside of business we don't see each other, we don't talk to each other, no contact. None." He paused. "Or I can go back to the hotel… and we… we can forget this ever happened." Head bowed, he waited, trembling.

For an instant, Kenneth wanted to say, "Go home, but he couldn't. He couldn't send him away. Having starved for so long had made him greedy. He longed to grab Brian, hold him tight, keep him, keep whatever of him he could. Joining Brian by the painting, he reached for him as he said, "Stay with me." Brian looked over at him and Kenneth immediately wanted to take his words back. His eyes were so large, so dark.

"I thought it would be enough." Half-smiled. "For us to be friends. I thought…" Shook his head. "Stupid, I guess. To think that you cared."

"Bri—"

"To think that being my friend would be enough." His eyes slid away. "But, of course, it isn't. Why would it be? What have I ever had to offer anyone except this?" Gestured at his body. "All that I am," he pronounced.

"No," Kenneth argued. "No, it isn't." Risking a touch, he loosely grasped Brian's wrist. "I want all of you. I want… I want you. In my life. Every day until I leave this fucking world. That's what I want. What I can't have," he said through clenched teeth. "And it makes me crazy. It makes me say and do things that I wouldn’t do if I weren't… so in love with you. I love you," he said gently, voice full of wonder as if he'd only just realized the extent of his feelings. He dropped Brian's wrist and turned away. "You should go." Having given himself a moment, he started out of the room. "I'll call Carl."

Released, Brian sat back down and cradled his head. _Christ…_ And he ached. For missed opportunities; for meeting at the wrong time; for not being strong enough not to feel anything; for wanting Kenneth at all when he had a husband who loved him more than anyone should, more than he deserved, more than he ever thought anyone would ever love him. On the other hand, here was Kenneth telling him that he loved him, that he wanted him… Brian opened his mouth, then closed it. _No._

Only it wasn't as easy as telling himself, _No_ , and then forgetting about all that had happened that evening. Back in his hotel room, he made a great show of packing his bag, carefully folding his clothes even though they were just going in the wash, to the cleaners. He rearranged his briefcase a half dozen times, shifting papers and folders until the compulsion passed. His stomach complained about its missed meal but he was wound up too tight to eat. Finally, having exhausted his meager repertoire of mindless tasks, he sat on his bed and stared at the television, flipped through the channels until he came upon something familiar. The news. Didn't watch it, just set the volume at a comfortable level and tossed aside the remote. Laid back upon the bed hoping the white noise would lull him to sleep.

But his mind would not let him rest.

Twice he picked up his cell phone, not certain who he'd call: Justin or Kenneth, and twice he put it down unopened. Still the desire persisted. The desire to reach out and connect with another person. In the past it had driven him to do all manner of thing, usually to his detriment. He hadn't forgotten his actions in Los Angeles, hadn't forgotten the look on Justin's face as he told him, _"I thought I could make a difference, I thought I could love you enough, give you enough… but I can't."_ Brian closed his eyes. It is enough, he promised him silently. There was no way he was going to jeopardize their marriage for Kenneth, no matter what he felt for the man. He had Justin and that was enough. 

He hoped it was enough. It had to be because there was no going home to Justin and being happy, being content if he had strong feelings for Kenneth; and he knew that to leave Justin would kill him. There'd be no way to stay with Kenneth and not ache for Justin. His only choices were to either be miserable or to forget about Harris.

They'd parted hastily, neither one attempting to say more than was absolutely necessary to get him out of the house and into the car. At the last moment he'd turned and started to say… something, he didn't know what, but Kenneth had already looked away. He wondered if that would be the last time he'd ever see Kenneth, if he'd be left with this image of him turning away, misery couched in the set of his shoulders.

He thought about the scene in _The Bridges of Madison County_ where Francesca watches Robert drive away, heard her words, _"For a moment I didn't know where I was. And for a split second the thought crossed my mind that he really didn't want me, that it was easy to walk away._ " That scene never failed to make Justin a little misty-eyed. He had never allowed himself to feel anything during that moment for fear that he'd feel too much. He knew the pain of having to make a choice that was killing you. Knew the wretchedness of waiting, wondering if you'd be chosen. Knew the lingering ache of uncertainty. He'd thought that was over now that he and Justin had wed and yet, here he was again, feeling torn inside.

And Kenneth, what was he feeling right now? Brian wanted to shove all thought of him from his mind but he couldn't. What had Kenneth done after he'd left? Had he mechanically gone about the business of forgetting him? Had he regretted his actions? Cursed Brian and himself for ever having met, for ever having admitted that there was more to their relationship than friendship?

I never meant to hurt you, he thought. _I never intended…_ To what? _To care for you as much as I do_. And then a voice inside his head asked, _Do you love him?_ But he did not answer.

Movements heavy, as if he were trudging through snow, he undressed and shivered before sliding beneath the covers. Drew the comforter up to his chin and sat staring into the darkness. 

He paused, holding the car door in his hand before closing it. Despite being exhausted and hungry, he hesitated, needing a moment before he faced his family, needing a last bit of peace, savoring the silence, using the brief time to strengthen his resolve. He would put the trip behind him, that's what he'd decided on the plane. So all he had to do now was uphold that decision.

Hearing Brian at the side door, Gus came running from the family room to meet him. "Daddy!" he shouted, so glad to see Brian that he bounced up and down wanting to be picked up and hugged.

Brian obliged him. "Hey, Sonny Boy." Kissed him as well and held him, grateful to be home again.

Pointing at Leo and Justin who had trailed in his wake, he said, "Leo bad."

"What did he do?"

"I caught him swinging from the drapes," said Justin. "Trying to climb up them, I guess." He slipped an arm around Brian and kissed him. "I’m glad you're back."

"Me too." Brian eyed Leo. "So what are we going to do with you?" The kitten stared at him as if he understood, looking slightly contrite.

"I got some of that spray you're supposed to use to keep them from scratching stuff. Put it on the curtains and the furniture. Nothing stained," he added quickly, knowing that Brian would be concerned about his leather sectional, among other pieces.

"Is it working?"

"Seems to be."

Bored with their conversation, Gus motioned for Brian to put him down and then he and Leo scampered off giving the spouses the opportunity to say hello once more. As he had Gus, Brian held onto Justin as if they'd been apart for weeks instead of days.

"You okay?" Justin asked, not that he didn't appreciate the embrace, but it worried him, the moods that sometimes came over Brian without warning. Because he knew how Brian tended to obsess over something, brooding in silence until he could no longer hold it all inside. In the past he'd done foolish things because of that tendency.

Releasing Justin and picking up his bags once more, Brian shrugged off his concerns. "Yeah."

"Trip go okay?" he asked, following Brian upstairs.

"Fine." Dropping his briefcase off in his study, Brian slung his luggage bag in the closet and plopped down on the bed. Fell back.

Justin joined him, laid a hand on his belly. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

"I'll see what I can find." He leaned over and kissed him, then left him to his rest. If he needed to talk, he would, eventually. Until then, there was no point in forcing the issue.

With Justin gone, Brian shut his eyes and practiced forgetting about Kenneth. 

 

Gus snuggled beneath the covers in his race car bed. He loved his bed, loved his room, loved Leo, loved his Daddies. Reaching up, he touched Brian's face to get his attention even though Brian was looking down at him. "Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

He pointed up at the ceiling, at the faintly glowing stars. "See?"

"See what?"

He paused, trying to hear the word in his head the way Mommy told him to. "Stars."

"That's right," Brian told him. "Stars." His speech was getting clearer everyday but sometimes he had trouble with consonant pairs like "th" and "st".

"Can we go?"

He could see people taking commercial shuttle flights in Gus' lifetime, it wasn't too farfetched an idea. Maybe even in his lifetime, although he'd probably be an old man by the time they did. It'd be cool, to die and have his ashes scattered on the moon. Smiling, Brian said, "Maybe someday."

Which was good enough for Gus. " 'kay."

"Give me a kiss," Brian asked and the toddler complied. "I love you."

"I love you, Daddy."

" 'night."

"Nite nite."

Having seen to it that Beh was nearby and that Leo had found his corner of the bed, Brian cut off the overhead lights and left a tiny SpongeBob glowing in the wall by the bed. He checked to make sure the intercom was on send and that the door was cracked, and then went to his bedroom. Closed the door shut.

Two glasses and the rest of the bottle of wine they'd opened and shared at dinner sat on one of the bedside tables. Justin lay on the bed. On his belly. Naked. A sheet draped over his hips. He turned onto his side. Lifted the edge of the sheet.

Dropping off his robe, Brian joined him, ran a hand over his flank. "God, I missed you."

Justin caught his hand, held it, stroked his fingers. "Brian…"

"What?"

"Did something happen in Birmingham?" When he saw that Brian was about to brush it off again, he added, "I know that something's been bothering you." Brian looked as if he were debating telling him so Justin settled down to wait.

"I had dinner at Kenneth's place last night," he said finally. "Wasn't the best idea I've ever had but… we'd been getting along so well, I thought that maybe, maybe we had finally gotten this friendship thing right. So I went. And I'm sitting there… and he's looking at me."

Although he knew, Justin asked, "Looking at you?"

He could see Kenneth sitting across from him, surreptitious glances becoming penetrating stares. "Like he wanted me."

"That's because he does." When Brian didn't say anything, he asked, "Then what?"

"I got really angry and we argued. I just—we always end up having to deal with that shit. And I asked him why."

_Because he loves you._

"He said it was because he loved me. So I gave him a choice." Here was the hard part, the part he didn't want to tell Justin but he had to because they were supposed to share everything. "I told him he could sleep with me and our friendship would be over… or we could remain friends and forget about ever fucking."

If Brian's confession shocked Justin, he didn't let it show. Only asked, "What did he choose?" As if there had ever been a choice.

"What do you think?"

Justin hated to ask but he had to, had to know the truth. "And did you?"

Once upon a time, Justin's question would have hurt but they no longer had any illusions about living the perfect life. There was only life, full of mistakes and regrets, and they lived it the best way they knew how. "I meant what I said. I promised to be faithful to you and I meant it."

"I'm sorry."

"I just…"

"Brian, I'm sorry. I know how much his friendship meant to you."

The best thing to do was to put Kenneth away and forget about him, that was the only course of action open to him, the only one that would give him any peace. "He made his choice."

Curling up in Brian's arms, Justin laid his head upon his chest. Listened to the strong, slow beat of his heart. He'd missed that. "I'm glad you're home."

Fingers entwined in Justin's hair, Brian replied, "So am I." 

 

"What do you think about this one?" Daphne asked, pointing to a deep burgundy sofa with a pleated skirt, and a scarf and throw pillows trimmed in gold with tassels. School was out and she was home for the summer and hadn't found a job yet so she'd agreed to help Justin shop for furniture. "It's kind of modern. Kind of vintage."

He liked the fabric which was patterned but in one color. "I like it. But I don't know what Brian would say. I think it's probably a little too girly for him."

"It's weird but, you know, there's something, I don't know, a little girly about Brian."

"Daph! He is not girly."

"Well, feminine then. It's hard to explain but he reminds me of… a cat."

Justin smiled. "He calls me Baby Cat."

"So that makes him Big Cat. Big Cat and Baby Cat. I like it."

He warned her, "If you ever tell him I told you that, I'll kill you."

Taking a seat on the sofa, Daphne patted the cushion next to her. "Wow, this is really comfortable."

Drawn to the piece despite the fact that Brian would probably hate it, Justin joined her. "It is." Ran his hand over the arm. "God, this is fabulous."

She checked out the tag. "Raymond Waites." Her eyes opened wide. "Maybe we can find something cheaper."

"I really love this sofa." Justin took out a pad and pen and jotted down the information.

"You would pay that much for a couch?"

"You obviously haven't seen the price tag on the dining table and chairs."

She raised a brow. "Expensive?"

"Don't ask."

Bouncing on the chair, Daphne said, "Your place should be in "House Beautiful" or "Architectural Digest"."

"Be good for Joanie's business." He stood. "She's going back to school in the fall."

"Awesome. It's really amazing how well you guys get along now. I remember when she said she didn't want to have anything to do with Brian. Or you."

As they wandered through the rest of the section, Justin agreed. "Brian was so incredibly hurt." Felt the fabric on another sofa remembering how Brian had come to him at Deb's place and cried in his arms.

"But now everything's cool."

"Yeah," he said. "We're the perfect family. Except…"

Alert to the possibility of trouble, Daphne asked, "Except what?"

"Lindsay's been thinking about having another kid." He pointed to another sofa, this one a rich red as well although the fabric was a floral pattern and Brian hated most floral patterns. They sat down but neither one thought it was very comfortable.

"What does Brian say?"

"He thinks it might be good for Gus to have a sibling."

"Probably. It's hard being an only child."

"And you think growing up with Claire or Molly was easy?"

"We were in junior high school when Molly was born. She didn't exactly grow up with us."

Of course, there was more to the baby issue than he'd mentioned. Yet. "So, anyway, Brian also thinks that our next child should be mine."

"Yours?"

"Yeah."

"With Lindsay?"

"I told him that you and I had always said we would have a kid together. Besides, I'd feel a little weird having a baby with someone that much older than me."

"Brian's that much older than you."

"It's different."

"I don't know. Maybe it would be better if you had a child with Lindsay. After all, you're both blond."

"And?"

"And I'm not. That matters to some people."

Of course, she meant that she was black. "It doesn't matter to me. Besides, you're straight. I figure it evens out."

Daphne laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. "You!"

"So you think we should wait?"

"Definitely. Babies take a lot of time, a lot of care. Even for part-time parents. I'm not ready for that. Not yet. But," she began again, "if you had a child with Lindsay, your child and Brian's child would be related. They might even resemble each other."

At that he laughed. "No way. Gus looks exactly like Brian. Even with Lindsay's nose, it doesn't matter. He's the spitting image of Brian."

"Can you imagine, having a little boy who looks like you?"

He smiled. "Might be nice." It'd be more than nice. Even though he loved Gus and Gus loved him, it wasn't the same as sharing the same genes, the same flesh and blood. Having a part of you that would live on even after you were gone. A you that you could watch grow up, seeing what might have been if things had been different. Still, he knew that he wasn't ready for that, not now. And as much as he loved Lindsay, she wasn't Daphne. "I want to have a child. But I want to have one with you."

"And you will. I promise. Just not now. 'kay?"

"Okay." They'd walked around the gallery and come back to the chair he and Daphne had liked so much and nothing else in their wanderings had come close. He gave it a final stroke. "Let's go. I've got to get home so I can start convincing Brian that this is the perfect sofa." 

 

Over the next few weeks, he worked on the ad campaign for Hyperion's new antithrombotic drug and Joanie and Justin worked on driving him crazy with the new living and dining room designs. Since they weren't making any architectural changes, all they really had to do was to assemble the various pieces of furniture and accessories. Which meant Brian and Justin had to make some choices, which meant they actually had to agree. On everything. Joanie would not accept any half-hearted abdications of responsibility. "I don't care," didn't cut it. Neither did, "Whatever." Brian learned the painful way just how much backbone his mother had developed. And attitude.

Additionally, the closer the two rooms came to being completed, the more Justin wanted to have an open house to meet and greet the neighbors. Knowing that Justin wouldn't take no for an answer, he agreed. Halfheartedly. Which was all Justin was going to get on that issue, which the younger man knew, and he took it. Ran with it. Began making plans with Joanie. All Brian had to do was write the checks, supply the credit card, and show up for the event. With a big ole smile on his face which Justin planned on being assured of by spending a little quality time with his hubby prior to the party. 

Finally, the week of May 19th, Joanie brought over the very last items, a pair of custom-made topiaries created just for their house. Positioning one in the painted planter by the entrance to the livingroom and the other in a corner of the dining room, she surveyed her work from all angles and was pleased with the results. The men wouldn't be home for a few more hours and she didn't feel like driving to her place just to turn around and drive back, so she plopped down on the sectional and rustled up the remote. Fumbled with the controls for the digital cable until she managed to turn on the television and find HGTV. She'd have no problem killing a few hours. The boys had promised to treat her to dinner. After all of her hard work, the least she deserved was a meal at some fancy restaurant. Although Brian and Justin had sworn they'd pay her for her services, she couldn't take their money. They were family and, besides, she knew how much they'd paid for their new house and the furnishings. There'd be other opportunities to collect a paycheck. Especially since Justin was dead set on having an open house. At the very least, she might pick up one or two commissions from that event alone. And once Brian's business associates took a gander at the place, there'd be more forthcoming. She'd already taken one meeting with Marty Ryder and Liz Ryder-Kelly and was confident they'd retain her for their substantial redecorating project. Already her mind was aflutter with ideas for the Ryder-Kelly's new master bedroom and bath.

Luckily, she was able to catch "Bed and Bath Design" and pick up some helpful tips. There was so much to learn and she couldn't wait until she was able to enroll in the Interior Design program at LaRoche. Brian had pushed for her to enroll in college immediately instead of starting out at the community college but it'd been so long since she'd sat in a classroom, she knew she'd feel better starting slowly and then working her way up to a degree program. Maybe by the time she finished the two-year program at the community college she'd feel confident about going to college. As is, she just felt nervous and very, very old.

After "Bed and Bath Design" she watched a few more programs on HGTV and before she knew it, either Brian or Justin was pulling into the yard.

"So is it finally done?" Justin asked as he came into the family room.

"It's perfect, if I do say so myself."

He smiled. "Brian'll be happy. He told me the other day if he looked at one more lamp, he was going to lose his mind."

"Too late," replied Joanie, laughing as she joined him on his way into the livingroom.

Although the rooms had been virtually complete for a couple of days now, he still hadn't gotten used to seeing them they way they were now. A holdover from months of looking at two empty spaces. He whistled. "It's fabulous. The topiary is perfect." It was a round topiary made of boxwood and punctuated by dried flowers: burgundy roses, golden yellow roses, and creamy white ones. Leaning over, he inhaled. There was a hint of fragrance but not much. Joanie must have warned the florist about his allergies and Brian's abhorrence of heavy scents.

"Come see the other one," she said and led him to the dining room.

"Wow." Expecting to see a matching topiary, he was surprised to see that this one was made using dried fruit: pomegranates and lemons, to be exact. The topiary had a pleasant citrus aroma. "That's amazing." But he hadn't expected anything less. The same person who did the topiaries had also created two stunning centerpieces for the dining table and the coffee table in the livingroom. For the dining table, she'd created a topiary made to look like a slice of cake, with moss icing, burgundy parchment roses, and a faux strawberry filling made of tiny berries. There was even a gold fork with a burgundy ribbon tied around it to coordinate with the porcelain plate upon which the cake rested. Brian had complained about it being a little girly but he'd been impressed nonetheless.

"Think Brian will like them?"

"He'll love them." As if he were letting her in on a secret, he told her, "He loves these rooms. He won't admit it, but he does."

"I do what?" the subject of their conversation asked, coming into the dining room with his suit jacket over his arm and a grin on his face.

"Love what your mom's done to this place."

"For what we're paying her, I'd better," he joked and gave his mom a peck on the cheek.

"What about me?" asked Justin and Brian pecked him on the cheek too. "You," laughed Justin and waved him away. "I'm starving. Where are we eating?"

"Got reservations at The Cove."

"Sweet."

"I've never even heard of it," Joanie admitted.

Justin reassured her that not many people had.

"Cuts down on the riff-raff," Brian commented. "Speaking of which, are you planning on changing?" he asked Justin.

"What's wrong with what I have on?"

Raising an eyebrow, Brian checked his watch. "We don't have time. Just go change. Trust me, we'll all be happier if you do."

"Won't have to listen to you bitch," said Justin, smiling sweetly, and he sauntered off.

Joanie popped Brian on the arm. "You should stop."

"He'll never learn to dress if I do."

Checking out her own outfit, she began to feel a little self-conscious. Maybe she should have gone home and changed too.

Smiling, Brian told her, "You look lovely."

"Now go kiss and make up," she ordered him.

"Saving that for later. After you go home," he smirked.

"Better hope you're not sleeping in the guest room," she retorted.

"Obviously, you've never seen me make up." For the second time that evening he kissed her. "You did a great job."

Joanie beamed.

"See? And I didn't even have to fu—"

"Brian!" Shaking her head, she went to check the throw pillows on one of the two sofas, even though they didn't need plumping.

With Joanie occupied for a while, Brian went to put out Leo's food. He hadn't seen the kitten yet which meant he'd probably been upstairs sleeping and was now more than likely watching Justin change but, eventually, he'd come down looking for his chow. Brian had just finished scooping out the dried bits when he heard Justin thundering on the stairs, Leo sure to be behind him trying to keep up. He leaned against the island counter and waited.

Justin walked into the kitchen and modeled his outfit: a blue and white striped jersey over a pair of navy slacks.

Catching hold of him, Brian bestowed a huge kiss upon his lips. "Much better." 

 

"I'm thinking about using pansies as the border for the invitations."

"For what?" They were in bed talking as they usually did before falling asleep, especially if they weren't intending to play.

"The housewarming."

"Pansies?"

"Yeah."

"You're joking, right?" Sometimes he wasn't sure when Justin was kidding and when he was genuinely clueless.

"Why not?"

"We're queer and we're sending out invitations with pansies on them? What's it gonna say on the inside? 'Come on over to our house, you'll have a gay ole time?' "

"Shit. I never thought about that." He really hadn't. It was a lot to keep up with, all the euphemisms for being gay. Especially the historic ones. He was a modern kind of guy. Gay was good enough for him. "Shit."

Brian snickered. "Fuck it. I say do it."

"I'm not going to put that—"

"The pansies, chickenshit."

Maybe they could use them. Maybe no one else would notice. "They are pretty."

"And so are we."

"Actually, I prefer, totally hung."

"Then it's a good thing I am."

"You're going to behave, aren't you?" Why did he even bother asking. Of course, Brian wouldn't behave. Still, it was worth a try. "I don't want our neighbors getting the wrong idea about us."

"And what would the wrong idea be?" As if he didn't know.

"That we're common."

"Anyone can tell that we're uncommonly good."

Giggling, Justin said, "That's Kebler's." Sobered. "I want to give a good impression."

"Which would be?"

"That we're just like everybody else." Justin laughed before he could even finish the sentence.

"If that's what you want," chuckled Brian. "we're in deep shit trouble."

Justin leaned back against Brian. "I just want them to like us."

"I'm gorgeous and you're adorable. They don't stand a chance."

"They'll be in love with us before the evening's done. Then again, everyone falls in love with you," said Justin carelessly. "You can be charming when you want to be."

But Brian had gone back to Birmingham in his mind, heard Kenneth tell him, "I love you," quite needlessly as he'd known that Harris loved him. "Yeah," he said softly, having come back home.

He knew what and of whom Brian had been thinking. "Have you heard from him?" Although Brian had been busy with the new campaign for Hyperion, Justin had gotten the impression that his contact with Kenneth had been minimal.

"He's called a few times. Updates on the approval process." Shrugged.

"You think you'll have to go back to Birmingham?"

"Definitely. Probably soon. They're set to get FDA approval any day now. When that happens we have to move and move fast."

"Why can't they come here?" There were planes that went to and from Birmingham. On top of that, Kenneth had his own plane.

"It's easier to send me there."

"Then why does it have to be you?"

"Cause I brought Hyperion on board, I've been the main contact from day one. Can't just change that without a damn good reason."

"How about the CEO is after your ass?"

"My ass is off limits to him."

"Why won't he believe that?"

As Justin had about their fictitious relationship when they'd first begun fucking all those years ago, "We believe what we want," Brian explained.

Justin thought about a subject they'd studied in class this past semester. "Like trompe l'oeil," he said. "We think the illusion is real because we don't want to see the truth." He snuggled up to Brian and took hold of his hand, traced the design in his wedding band. "And the truth is, you belong to me."

Smiling, Brian replied, "Absolutely." 

 

For the fortieth time—in fifteen minutes—he asked himself what he was doing getting ready to host an open house. What's more, he couldn't believe that everyone on their block had responded to the invitation positively, assuring Justin by phone that they would attend the soiree. Although they'd briefly spoken with the people on either side of them, they hadn't had extensive conversations and no one had actually been inside their house. Brian figured their neighbors had to be very intrigued by them. After all, they were the only gay couple on the block and the only couple with a spouse under the age of thirty. He couldn't imagine what they thought they did behind closed doors.

"What about this?" Justin asked, coming out of the closet and modeling his outfit. He'd finally decided on a pair of tan linen pants with a drawstring waist and a white camp shirt. This, after having put on three different outfits first.

"Turn around."

"What?" asked Justin, turning, hoping he wouldn’t catch the hem of his pants in his new leather slides.

"I just like to look at your ass," replied Brian.

Justin bumped him. "You promised to behave."

"And you promised to make it worth my while," he said, pulling Justin to him and kissing him soundly.

"Afterwards," he whispered. Checked out Brian's ensemble: black, short-sleeved sweater and chocolate, flat-front trousers. "This is nice," he said of his sweater, which had textured horizontal tiger stripes.

"Had it for years. Packed away, I guess. That's one of the hidden benefits of having a walk-in closet: I'm finding stuff I'd forgotten I had bought."

"Brian Kinney wearing last year's fashions. Say it isn't so."

Swatting Justin on the bottom, Brian started out of the bedroom. Their guests would be arriving in fifteen minutes or so. Time enough to make sure everything was perfect. 

 

There were eight houses on their street and all seven of the other couples showed up at six for the open house. Standing at the front door, they and Leo greeted their guests as each couple arrived, directing them to the family room where the buffet was set up. Within a few minutes, everyone had assembled, Leo having escorted them to the family room, tail held up like a standard, the guests entranced by his soft meow and beautiful liquid eyes. When the last couple walked away from them, Brian and Justin kissed briefly and went to play hosts.

Rachel, who had met Justin once outside the house before they'd moved in, spoke up. "The food looks wonderful but I'd really love to have a tour before we eat. Do you mind?" Leo curled around her feet, intrigued by the smell of her dog.

"Fine with me," said Justin. Brian shrugged. "Where do you want to start?"

Of course, the ladies all wanted to start in the living and dining rooms which they'd glimpsed walking through the reception hall. The hall itself garnered some appreciative looks for the fountain and the inherited artwork arrayed on the walls.

"We had our wedding out here," Justin explained to a couple of the women who made him promise to show them the pictures later on.

"Are those Turner prints of Venice?" asked an older woman, Laney. She and her husband, Frank, were the oldest couple on the block, somewhere in their sixties. Brian and Justin were surprised by their attendance, presupposing that they would have abstained, disapproving of a gay couple, and a young couple to boot, in their midst. But they'd come in, smiling, and had greeted them warmly, welcoming them to the neighborhood.

"Yes," replied Justin. "We met an elderly man last year who ran an antique shop. He passed away soon afterwards and left them to us. The silver service too." Brian slipped his arm around Justin and hugged him briefly before moving into the dining room. He knew how much Sebastian had meant to the younger man and had been happy to hang the prints in such a prominent place. They even had a photo of Sebastian and Thomas among photographs of their relatives and friends on the mantelpiece in the family room. "He was like a grandfather to me," Justin explained.

"I've always wanted to go to Venice," Laney said.

"It's amazing," Justin told her. "We went to Europe last summer and spent over a week in Italy. We loved it. I can't wait to go back."

Rachel gasped as she saw the chandelier over the dining table. "Where did you get this?"

Brian sighed. He knew they'd gravitate to that thing just to spite him. "From a supplier here in the States but it was made in Venice. Murano glass."

"That's it," she told Christopher who was looking as pained as Brian. "That's just what I've been looking for. For our dining room. Something different."

"That's definitely different," Christopher agreed. "And probably expensive."

Brian said nothing, it was better that way. He and Justin had had enough terse discussions about the chandelier. It was time to let it go.

The other guests wandered around the two rooms, murmuring appreciatively at the classic-looking furnishings. The lighting fixtures in the livingroom were admired as well, especially the wine red lamp with the beaded fringe and the crystal and amber glass chandelier.

Someone opened one of the doors to the courtyard and everyone went out for a moment, the scent of wisteria perfuming the air and the fountain gurgling contentedly.

They toured the rest of the first floor, peeking into the conservatory which hadn't been decorated beyond Justin's easel, Gus' easel, and the mosaic table and chair set.

"You have a child?" asked a middle-aged woman of Brian.

"Gus. He's two. Almost three. He lives with his mothers."

"Mothers?"

"They're lesbians." He smiled and the woman smiled back, then went to find her husband, undoubtedly to share the latest news. Brian chuckled softly and caught up with the group which had moved on to the kitchen.

As they walked through the gallery, Justin explained that they intended on displaying artwork from the Institute. At the moment they had on the walls the three still-life paintings he and Xavier and Rennie had done plus the sketch Justin had done of Brian after they'd first met, which the ladies all examined quite closely. There were also a couple of photographs Brian had taken of Leo and Gus and downtown Pittsburgh. He had some of Justin too but they weren't for public viewing.

"Who did these?" asked one of the younger men in the group, Nicholas.

"I did," Brian replied.

"Two artists in the family."

"Actually, I'm in advertising," explained Brian. "This is just a hobby. The camera does most of the work."

"I do a little amateur photography too," Nicholas said. "But I'm not this good. What kind of camera do you use?" and he and Brian discussed lenses and shutter speeds as they climbed the spiral stairs to the second floor.

Frank, Laney's husband, loved the library even though there was an obvious paucity of first editions or any editions of worth except for Justin's art books, some of which were expensive if not priceless.

"Are you a rare book dealer?" Justin asked him.

"Publisher. But," he added wistfully, "publishing's not what it used to be. I'm just about to retire. Held out for years but maybe it's time to sell. Take Laney on that trip to Venice that she's always wanted. Stay a while."

As expected, the master suite aroused some interest and not just for the decor. But they'd been careful to lock their toy chest so the prurient tastes of their guests went unsatisfied. Leo, who was used to sitting on it, hopped on top and made himself (and the trunk) the center of attention.

"What breed is he?" asked a middle-aged man whose name Brian couldn't remember.

"European Burmese. Chocolate."

Petting Leo, who loved it, the man said, "Well, he's beautiful. Are you going to show him?"

They'd learned that they could, that the CFA had begun to award ribbons to the European Burmese but they didn't intend to put him through that. "He's strictly a lounge around the house cat. Isn't that right, Leo?" And the cat hopped down to follow them into the bathroom.

Although she'd been polite, Rita, the woman who'd asked Brian about Gus, had been quiet the rest of the tour until they reached the bathroom. There, she was drawn to the dividing wall. Running her fingers over the waxed and buffed surface, she studied every inch of it, entranced by the delicate ruins. "It's magnificent. Did you use a professional artist?"

"Justin and his friends painted it," Brian boasted, quite proud of the wall and of his spouse's talent.

Risking a smile, she said, "Your house is so beautiful. Everything in it is just so… beautiful."

Obviously not a writer. "Thanks."

"You seem very happy here."

"We are."

As if she were imparting some great secret, she said, "The people who had it before you weren't."

Not certain what to say, he fell back on his mother's advice and didn't say anything.

Downstairs, the neighbors continued to quiz Brian and Justin about the house and themselves while consuming a light supper. Luckily they'd rented chaffing dishes so the hot food had remained hot and the hors d'oeuvres were no worse for wear for having sat out twenty minutes longer than they'd expected. The dinner, catered by the Zoo, won rave reviews.

Portishead played in the background, Beth Gibbons singing about being a woman. The irony was not lost on either Brian or Justin.

 _"From this time, unchained  
We're all looking at a different picture   
Thru this new frame of mind   
A thousand flowers could bloom   
Move over, and give us some room…"_ 8

"They did our wedding reception," Justin explained. "The dessert's by the baker who made our cake. Her name is Gaia and she's amazing."

"I've been to her shop," said Rachel. "She has the best lemon bars in the city."

"You have to go to the Liberty Diner if you want really good lemon bars. And if you come in while I'm working, I'll give you a discount."

"What do you do there?" she asked.

"I'm a waiter. Started out as a busboy," he boasted.

"And you go to school full-time and have a husband and a child? How do you do it?"

Glancing at Brian, he smiled. "He's low-maintenance."

Laughing, Rachael shook her head. "He looks like he's beyond high-maintenance."

Caught out, Justin laughed too. "Stratospheric. But he's worth it."

"And you two did all of this yourselves?" someone asked after they'd calmed down.

"We had help. My mother-in-law is a phenomenal decorator."

"You think she could do something with our house? My husband and I can't agree on anything."

"Believe me," he told her, "after working with us, she's ready to broker the peace in the Middle East." 

 

Promising Nicholas that he would come over and check out his home darkroom one day soon, Brian shut the door and leaned against it.

Justin slipped his arms around him. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I survived."

"You did very well. Everyone was very impressed."

"With the house."

"And us."

"You're a good host."

"Ess," joked Justin, sticking out his tongue. They kissed.

"Mmm," murmured Brian and kissed him again.

Justin backed away from him and kicked off his shoes. Pulled off his socks. And his shirt. Moved in closer and said, "Open my pants and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise."

Snickering, Brian pulled the string on Justin's pants and slid his hands inside back of them. "Oh." Cupped Justin's bare cheeks and traced the line of the thong around his waist. "Nice."

Justin dropped his pants and stepped out of them, letting Brian see all of the thong. There was a nylon zipper in front, the white of the plastic contrasting with the black material of the thong itself. He turned and displayed his smooth ass. Looked over his shoulder and smiled. Started up the stairs certain that Brian would follow.

Kicking off his shoes, Brian did. By the time he got to the library, he'd left a trail of clothes behind him. He paused by the stairwell and leaned against the wall, waiting. Justin stood by the entry to their bedroom, feet planted apart. Taking hold of the zipper on his underwear, he pulled it down. Slowly. Then opened the two halves of the thong and reached for his cock. Eyes fixed on Brian, he spat in his hand and began to stroke himself. Imagining it was Brian's hand, Brian's slender fingers wrapped around his dick, tracing whorls on his skin.

Staying put and watching until Justin began to stiffen, Brian pushed off the wall and walked towards him, his own cock growing heavy. Crouched so that their crotches were on level and rubbed against Justin, palms curved around his behind. Gnawed on his neck, red spots marking his path up and down Justin's throat. Head thrown back, Justin gripped Brian's hair as he continued to rip his neck and to pump against him. He could feel his cock hardening. Suddenly Brian picked him up and carried him to the bedroom. Laid him down and stripped him free of the thong. Justin opened his thighs and tightened his legs around Brian as they kissed, mouth devouring mouth. He was dizzy, so excited he could barely think. Every time Brian's cock brushed his thigh, his belly, his cock he wanted to shout. And when Brian lowered his head and began to blow him, he did cry out and then smothered his cries as Brian teased and taunted him, tugging on his meat and twisting his head as he sucked him raw.

Brian finally released him and knelt over him. Gently stroked him, coaxing a surge of precum from the tip of his swollen cock. Licked his fingers clean. Justin shivered and reached for Brian's hand. Drew his fingers into his mouth and sucked them, the act sending pulses of pleasure through both their bodies. Each time Justin's lips tightened around one of his fingers, Brian caught his breath: it felt like Justin was sucking his cock. After a few minutes of that, he did want Justin's mouth around his dick. Pressing down on it, he fed it to his lover, brushing the moist head over his soft lips before allowing it to slip inside. 

 

Picking up the phone in response to Cynthia's buzzing, Brian absentmindedly said, "Yeah?"

"We got approval."

Kenneth. Immediately, the adrenaline sent him into high gear. Dampening his enthusiasm with effort, he asked, "News release?"

"Going out as we speak. You coming down this week?"

"You want me to?"

" 'preciate it if you would."

"Two days or one?"

"Better make it two. In case we have to tweak something. I want to go with this as soon as we can."

"I'll get Cynthia on it."

"Brian… thanks."

Allowing himself to smile, Brian replied, "Congratulations."

"See you Thursday."

He could tell Kenneth was pleased and not only about the FDA approval. What was he going to do? The situation was rapidly deteriorating and he was running out of options. The problem was, he didn't want to hurt Kenneth and yet that was probably the only way he was ever going to convince the man that there was no hope for them. 

 

"Justin…" Jennifer gazed around the rooms in wonderment. "This place looks fabulous."

"Joanie did all the work," he told her.

"Well, she's a genius. It's, it's magnificent." Following Justin out of the livingroom, her hand lingering on the surface of the console table by the doorway, Jennifer took one last look at the space before they crossed the hall to the family room where they had coffee together. And talked. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Sorry." He supposed he'd been a little upset with her for telling his dad about his name change. "Dad tell you I saw him at the courthouse?"

"He did." She sipped her coffee. "Justin… I know you probably think I was wrong to tell him but I thought he should know."

"He says he can't be a part of my life now that Brian and I are together for good." When Craig had first said that to him, it had hurt. Now, it didn't hurt so much anymore. His life went on, with or without his father.

"I know. I tried to talk to him but he won't see reason."

Justin shook his head. "No wonder you guys got divorced."

"Maybe he'll come around eventually," she suggested.

"I don't care, Mom. I've got so much going on, I don't have time to worry about whether or not he'll come to accept me. It's been too long and I've been through too much."

"He does love you. He'll always love you. You're his son."

He disagreed. "The son that he loves… that's not who I am and he doesn't want to know me. The real me. He'd rather pretend that one day I'll wake up and be the person that I used to be."

She tore a Danish in half and nibbled at the corner of one piece. Said sadly, "So my little boy is gone for good?"

Justin smiled, his cheeks warm. "No, not gone." He's just someone else's little boy, now.

"So, you and Brian are doing okay then?" she asked. "As if I have to ask," Jenn added. "You look as happy today as you did when you got married."

"Because I am. He makes me happier than I ever thought I'd be." Raising a brow, he inquired about her love life. "I thought for sure you'd show up to the wedding with a date."

"Justin!"

"You're pretty, you're smart, you're an amazing real estate agent—"

"You're biased."

"Found the perfect house for us."

"That was luck," she admitted.

"So, there's no one?" he asked, prying further.

Pausing for a moment, she smiled shyly. "Well, there have been a few… inquiries."

"A guy asked you out?"

"More than one," she boasted.

"And…?"

"And I said I'd think about it."

Justin fell back in his chair. "Mom. What are you waiting for?"

She shrugged. "A… a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?"

"Something that says, 'This is the one.' Does that make sense?"

Remembering how he'd felt when he first met Brian, he understood what she meant. "Yeah," he replied. "It does. I hope it comes. You deserve to be happy too."

"Oh," she said, "I am happy. I love my job, I love spending time with you and your sister. And my new son-in-law and my in-laws. Joanie and I had lunch not too long ago. My life is good."

A grin sneaking its way past his good sense, Justin thought about the nights he and Brian spent making love until the early hours of the morning and he knew that good was not enough.

Having deciphered the meaning of the grin, Jenn said, "Not everyone needs sex as much as you and Brian seem to," and laughed at the mortified look on Justin's face.

But he recovered quickly. "No, but they'd be a lot happier if they had it as much as we do," and he laughed as well. 

 

They'd turned in early, Leo curled up at the foot of the bed waiting for them to fall asleep so he could take his place in between them. Brian had shared his news about his impending trip to Birmingham with Justin and the young man had, understandably, been less than thrilled.

"So this is it, huh?"

"Yep. Pretty exciting."

"I guess." He smoothed the comforter.

Understanding why Justin was responding the way he was but wanting him to be a little excited for him, Brian said, "Think of it as my solo exhibition."

"I'm sorry. It's not that I don't think it's important because I do. I know how important it is to you, to your career."

"And to millions of stroke victims."

"You really think it's going to help?"

"Kenneth does. And I believe him."

The confidence Brian seemingly had in Kenneth came through in the strength of that statement. "Why?"

"He's never lied to me. Not that I've found out."

"Pretty rare." He couldn't say the same himself. Neither of them could.

"Yep."

"I've always tried to tell you the truth."

He heard the hurt undertone in Justin's voice. "I know."

"Brian?"

"Mmm?"

Justin paused. What was the point in risking an argument. "Do you think maybe we could go to the inn this summer?"

"That's not what you were going to ask me." Three years together had given him the ability to read Justin almost as well as Justin read him.

"Doesn't matter."

"Sure?"

"Positive."

"Maybe," Brian said, answering Justin's question even if it wasn't the one the young artist wanted to ask him.

"Maybe what?"

"The inn." Kids.

"Oh, yeah."

"Depends on how busy I am with this new campaign."

"Just a weekend. That's all." Although he tried not to, he was beginning to feel resentful of the time Brian put in at the office. Beginning to feel like one of those executive wives who turned to gardening or charity work to fill the void left by her husband's absence.

"I think that could be arranged." He leaned over and kissed his spouse, rubbed noses.

"I love you." Pecked Brian's throat, feeling a little frisky. "You know…"

Brian laid back. "Baby, I'm really tired. I was running around like crazy today trying to get things done."

Rolling away, he commented, "Kenneth calls and you jump."

Well, they were back to that. "O-kay."

"I didn't mean that."

"It's just business."

"It's not just business!" Justin couldn't keep quiet any longer. "He loves you. And you—you're attracted to him. Don't deny it." Although what he wanted most in the world was for Brian to deny it.

He didn't. But he did say, "And I married you. That should count for something."

"It does."

"Then why do you feel threatened by him?"

"Because he would do anything he could to get you."

"But, Baby, there's nothing he could do. No. There is." At Justin's look of fear, Brian said, "The only thing he could do is to somehow be you. And last time I looked, there was only one of you in the whole, wide, fucking world. For which I am eternally thankful."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Softly, Brian asked, "Why won't you trust me? Trust me to do what's right?" Jesus, a year ago he wouldn’t have defended himself because God only knew what he'd do from one moment to the next. But he'd made an effort to change, to be a better person and still…

"I do," Justin assured him. "I do trust you. I just don't trust him and I never will. No matter what he says, he loves you and that means something, Brian. You don't just put those feelings away and forget about them just because you can't have the person that you love. I know. There were days when I would have given anything not to have loved you," he confessed. "But I didn't have a choice. And neither does he."

"Well, neither do I. I love you, I married you, and I intend to spend my life with you. I'm sorry Kenneth has to be hurt but there's never been a moment, the entire time he's known me, when I've ever given him the slightest impression that I would give you up."

"I believe you, I do." He had to, it was the only way he could stand by and not do something more drastic like demand that Brian not see Kenneth, which would get him nowhere except in the doghouse with Brian.

"Then no more discussions about Kenneth?"

"I'm done."

"Good because I'm tired and I intend to go to sleep." Giving Justin a final kiss, he turned over onto his side. On cue, Leo got up and padded over to Brian and laid down next to him.

Justin stroked the kitten's fur for a moment, then turned over to take his own rest. 

 

Despite being a self-confessed exhibitionist, no matter how many times Brian stood up to pitch an idea to a client, he always felt a little nervous at first. But once he began talking and started focusing on the idea rather than the clients, the nervousness disappeared and he did what he did best: seduced his audience.

As he set up his boards, he reflected that he could have brought Cynthia along to help. Funny, the thought had never crossed his mind, that he could have brought an assistant. Didn't really matter, he was used to being a one-man show.

"We all know what a drug ad looks like. They show you a person, preferably someone attractive, enjoying a happy life thanks to their product. A couple walking down the beach, children playing in the park, guy walking his dog. No one wants to focus on the disease, no one wants to be negative, so they play up the positive aftereffects." Several people nodded. They understood.

He paused, his next words a little difficult for him because of their personal nature. "When Justin—my husband—" and he thought that it was peculiar that it didn't seem strange to him anymore to say that Justin was his huband, "was attacked, I remember sitting in the hospital, not knowing what was going on, not knowing what they were doing, whether he would live or die. And even after he was out of the woods, the doctors would come around and speak gibberish to us and I've never felt more helpless in my life.

"I know how it feels to be afraid. To feel as if no one understands what you're going through. Hyperion has a product that could potentially save millions of lives. How may spouses, how many children have to sit in a hospital waiting room wondering if someone they love is going to make it or not? And even though nothing can really take away that fear, how much easier would it be if they understood just what was going on? If they knew, in plain English, what was happening and, more importantly for Hyperion, just how this drug would work? So we educate them. About strokes and about our product. About why it's better than what's currently out there." Again he paused, gauging their reaction. So far no one looked dubious.

He uncovered his board showing a print ad for the drug. It was a picture of two people sitting in a hallway much like the hallway where he and Mikey had sat waiting for Deb and Jennifer to arrive. One of the people was looking up at a clock on the opposite wall, the other person was looking down. Brian read the ad's heading, "With a stroke, every second counts." He pointed out the secondary text. "Your loved one has had a stroke. Three hours have passed. It's not too late. We can help." Pointed to the tertiary text. "Here's where we explain the problem, what the treatment is, and give all the pertinent details about the drug. And then at the bottom," indicated the last large line of text, "we hit them with the tagline, 'Afibrinase. We give you more time for life.' "

Removed a second board which was storyboarded for a television ad. "For the TV spots, we use the same concept except that we intercut the secondary text with shots of doctors and nurses at work. Go to the drug information part. And at the end, show a shot of the patient recovering in the hospital with his or her spouse, son, daughter at their side, and end with the drug name and the tagline." He avoided Kenneth's eyes, focusing instead on the VPs arrayed around the table. Then he heard a voice, Kenneth's voice.

"I like it."

Brian finally looked over at him.

"I more than like it, I love it." Sketched in the air, "Afibrinase. We give you more time for life." Slapped the tabletop. "Fuckin' love it."

One of the female VPs grinned. "It is catchy."

A male colleague shook his head. "Doctors are gonna hate it."

"Good," said Kenneth. "Put a little fire under their asses. You know how many doctors refused to even consider Activase?" which was the other drug currently approved for this type of treatment.

"Well, that's not entirely fair. After all the data from that one study—"

"Is up for interpretation." No one disputed Kenneth's take on the situation. "I say we give the people the power to go in asking questions and let the doctors earn their fees."

None of the VPs disagreed.

Taking a seat, seduction complete, Brian smoothed his tie and asked, "Anything else?" 

 

Kenneth opened the car door and held it for him. "You sure you don't want to go out to dinner?"

"I'm bushed," he said as Kenneth got in behind him. "I'm ordering room service, putting up my feet, and relaxing. I've been hustling non-stop on this campaign for a week."

After having signaled the driver, Kenneth told Brian, "Well, rest up because there's going to be a small cocktail party at my place tomorrow to celebrate getting FDA approval and having had the good sense to retain the best damn advertising firm in the country. Which means you have to be there."

"Count on it."

Stretching out his legs, Kenneth said, "That really was an A-class piece of work."

"As soon as I get back to Pitts, we'll start casting for the ads and we should be up and running within a week, two at the tops."

"We also need to come up with some ads tailored to the medical community to put in the leading journals, particularly the ones that cover strokes and cerebrovascular diseases."

"Something a little less sensational," suggested Brian.

"Exactly."

"Also, tomorrow, I want you to look at the package my reps are taking with them on the rounds. See what you can do to…" he hunted for the right phrase.

"Sex it up?"

Instead of answering, Kenneth smiled.

Falling silent, Brian gazed out of the window, nothing really to see except for trees and highway and other cars. The complex was outside of town and it would take twenty minutes or more to reach Birmingham proper. He wondered what Justin was doing, if he was out watering his herb garden or making plans for further agricultural endeavors. They really needed to find a gardener. The watering they could handle as there was a drip irrigation system in place but as far as cutting the grass was concerned, he'd pass. And Justin sunburned way too easily.

"Are you okay?"

He looked around. "Just thinking about the yard."

Kenneth laughed. "The joys of home ownership."

"We planted an herb garden on my birthday."

"Happy Birthday."

"It was in April." He smiled briefly. "Sometimes I feel like…" Gave his head a tiny shake.

"What?"

At first he was going to shrug it off but then he decided to answer. "Like someone else. My life's… not exactly what I thought it would be five years ago."

"But that's a good thing, right?"

Brian glanced back out the window. "Yeah," he said, facing Kenneth once again. "It is."

That conversation stuck with him even as he boarded the elevator for his floor. His life had changed in so many ways from what it was five years ago. There'd been no Gus, no Justin, no house, no partnership. Five years ago the only thing he'd wanted that he now had was the partnership. He certainly hadn't wanted a child, a spouse. But he had all those things now. Responsibilities, not only to his job but to his son, to his husband. He remembered telling Michael, "The only person I'm responsible for is myself." Jesus, that had only been three years ago. And he'd been talking about Gus and Justin.

He changed into a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt and flipped through the Room Service menu, ordered pan/oven-roasted chicken with rosemary and portobello mushrooms. As he waited for his dinner to arrive, he stretched out on the bed and searched the channels on the television for something to watch. Ended up leaving it on Cartoon Network and closing his eyes. He could hear Gus in his head, giggling at something on the TV, Justin laughing too. A quiet moment was a rare thing in their house if Gus and Justin were around. Yet he preferred it to the quiet. The loft had been very quiet most of the time before Justin had arrived on the scene. He used to turn on the stereo just to drown out the silence. And the thoughts in his head. The way he was doing now with the television.

He checked the time. Justin would still be at the diner. Afternoons he worked there, mornings he spent in his studio, said he focused better early in the day. Evenings and nights belonged to Brian. When he was home. Which had been a rare occurrence this past week. He'd come home more than once after nine, found Justin in the studio sketching or lounging with Leo curled next to him. Despite his having told him not to, sometimes Justin hadn't eaten, had waited for him to return home to share a meal, a quiet moment before bed. To sleep. Exhausted, he hadn't been much in the mood for romance. A few mornings they'd played before he'd headed off to work but, all in all, it hadn't been a good week for them.

Once he got back from his trip, there would still be a great deal of work to do but, hopefully, his schedule wouldn't be as hectic. And he intended to delegate the work. There was no need for him to be involved in every aspect of the campaign. Let someone else deal with the commercials, the print ads, buying air time and publication space. He had good people working for him, he had to trust them to know what they were doing. Had to or else he and Justin were headed for a major pileup.

He had vacation time coming up in two weeks, was only taking a week but Gus was coming to stay with them that week and he intended to enjoy himself, maybe even make it to the clubs one night if they could find a babysitter. Two of the ladies in the neighborhood had volunteered after having seen Gus' picture on the mantelpiece. Brian and Justin both had assured them that he was a handful but they all had cooed and fallen instantly in love with the toddler after only having seen a photograph. Of course, Justin believed that it probably had more to do with his gorgeous daddy than it did with the adorable two-year-old. The ladies had seemed most impressed with Brian. Then again, most people were.

Including Kenneth, he told himself. He'd seen the hunger in Kenneth's eyes, which the man had tried to hide but couldn't successfully do. Not relishing being alone, he'd almost accepted Kenneth's offer of dinner but, in the end, he'd refused. He was tired, maybe too tired to fend off the man's advances, subtle though some of them were. It was actually the subtle ones that gave him the most trouble. The times when Kenneth abandoned his strategy of actively pursuing Brian and, instead, charmed him by being himself.

 _Don't think about him._ So he opened his eyes and tried to concentrate on the Japanimation cartoon on the television but he didn't have any idea what was going on other than one group of bizarre-looking creatures were battling another freakish looking team. Maybe he should have taken a shower. 

Dinner demolished, he set the tray on the writing/dining table and was about to run a bath when his cell rang. Justin. "Hey, Baby."

"You at dinner?"

"Just finished."

"Guess I should let you go then."

"Why? I had Room Service. Too tired to go out," he explained.

"Kenneth must have been disappointed."

"He was too happy with the campaign to be disappointed by anything."

"So they liked it?"

"They loved it."

"You think you can come home tomorrow then?"

"Can't. They want me to help them spice up the information packets the reps take around to the physicians." Didn't know if he should add that Kenneth wanted him there for a party at his house. But he did. "Plus, there's some shindig the company's having to celebrate the new drug."

Justin didn't ask if the shindig was at Kenneth's place, he didn't think he wanted to know. At least there'd be safety in numbers. "But you'll be back Saturday."

"As scheduled." He smiled, thinking of Justin waiting home for him, a couple of salmon steaks on the grill, salad in the fridge. "Maybe we can have lunch out in the courtyard when I get back," he suggested.

"Make it dinner. I gotta work Saturday. I'll leave you something for lunch in the fridge before I go in though."

Brian's smile grew wider. "Did I tell ever you you were the bestest twinkie ever?"

"I am not a twinkie." Justin paused and Brian knew that he was beaming. "I'm your husband."

"I love you, husband."

"I love you too."

Neither one wanted to hang up but there didn't seem to be anything else to say at the moment, at least nothing pressing. " 'Night."

" 'Night."

Closing the cell, Brian stood holding it for a moment, then put it away and went to run his bath. 

 

The day had been very productive, Brian having met with the reps who would make the rounds with the physicians who would potentially prescribe Afibrinase. He'd taken a look at their information packets and made some suggestions regarding packaging and graphics, nothing too drastic, little touches that would hopefully jazz up their presentation just a tad. Sometimes that made all the difference in advertising.

Now, stepping out of the car in front of the hotel, he began to mentally prepare for the evening ahead. A party at Kenneth's house. Senior VPs, the members of the research team for Afibrinase. Spouses. Not his and not the host's as his was at home in Pittsburgh waiting for him and Kenneth had none. He wants you, his mind said unnecessarily.

"He can't have me," Brian whispered aloud, surprising himself. He was glad no one else was in the elevator with him. Alighting on his floor, he let himself into his room and checked the clothes he'd brought with him for something suitable. Justin was always teasing him about the number of outfits he took with him on a two-day trip but Brian knew that you had to be prepared for contingencies. What if you went out somewhere formal? What if, at the last minute, the client wanted to go see a baseball game or do something stupid like that? You had to be ready for anything. He'd done almost everything with clients. Including almost fucking one.

Telson. As he selected the clothes he'd wear that night, Brian shook his head. He still couldn't believe that he'd actually gone to the hotel intending to fuck that guy. _And what about Kenneth?_ The voice in his head was being a pest today. "I'm not fucking him." It made him feel better to say it out loud, to hear the words emerge from his mouth. So it was said, so it would be done. For an instant he thought about calling Kenneth and canceling on him but he knew Harris would take it as an insult if he didn't show and he wanted to show, he wanted to celebrate the approval of the drug, the approval of the campaign. He just didn't want any hassles.

Holding up the casual outfit he'd brought with him, he wondered if it was too late to go out and buy something else. Jeez, he was surprised Justin had let that pass his suitcase inspection. It was one of his sexier ensembles: black, matte silk shirt and a pair of close-fitting pinstriped grey slacks. The pinstripes made his legs look even longer, not that he needed any help in that department. Justin often told him that he had beautiful legs, loved to lie next to him and run his hand from Brian's calves to his thighs. Loved to lie above him with Brian's legs wrapped around him.

Brian shook the vision from his head. God, he wanted to go home and make love to Justin, in his own bed, in his own home. Business trips used to excite him with the possibilities of visiting places he'd never been but he'd learned over the years that most places were like every other place these days. Every city looked the same to him, every experience was the same: another high-rise office building, another taxi ride from the airport. Again he shook his head. That wasn't exactly true. What was true was that he wanted to be home, he wanted to sit down to dinner with Justin in the family room, and load the dishwasher afterwards, and then climb the stairs to their bed. He wanted to hear the tiny cries Justin uttered when they made love, feel him tighten around him.

"Stop." Taking a deep breath, he began to strip. He'd shower, change, take a cab to Kenneth's place, have a few drinks, eat some canapé, maybe dance a couple of dances, and then return to his hotel room and pack. And tomorrow he'd take a flight back to Pitts. Back to Justin. 

 

Kenneth greeted him at the door. "I would have sent the car for you."

"It's okay. The taxi wasn't much. Besides, we're billing you for it," he grinned.

"Worth every penny." He showed him to the livingroom where some of the guests were assembled. A few nodded to him, one or two half-waved. "What's your poison?"

"Cosmo." Last one he'd had was at Woody's about two weeks ago. He and Justin had gone out with Jeff and Mikey and Deb and Vic.

"Coming right up." Harris stepped over to the bar and ordered Brian's drink and one for himself, then carried them back to where the man was sitting.

"I could have gotten that."

"You're my guest," Kenneth said, handing the drink over. He sat next to Brian on the sofa. "Tired?"

"Little." Tasted the Cosmo. "Perfect." Laughed. "I should really have something to eat with this."

"Your wish…" began Kenneth who signaled one of the waiters circulating about the room. The young man brought over a tray of appetizers from which Kenneth selected a few and placed them on a cocktail plate. "Thanks." Passed them to Brian.

"Personalized service. I like it."

"I'm an attentive host."

"I think your other guests are feeling neglected," he pointed out.

Kenneth leaned in. "Fuck 'em."

Brian chuckled. 

 

Sharon, who was slightly tipsy, tried twice to cross her legs and gave up. Waved the effort away with a flap of her hand. "So what's your husband like? Mine's an ass."

"Mine's got a great ass," replied Brian and she cackled.

"I like you." Smiled crookedly. "You're cute. No." She amended her statement. "You're hot." Reaching for his knee, she missed by a mile. "I've never made it with a hot guy."

"I've only ever made it with hot guys," he told her.

"What's your husband's name again?"

"Justin."

"That's it. So, is he hot?"

"Totally. Blond, blue eyes, and a smile like you wouldn’t believe." He took out his wallet and passed a picture to her. It was of them on their wedding day. "They call him Sunshine."

When her eyes uncrossed she examined it. "He's adorable. Look at him." Smiled. "Look at you." Gave him back the photo. "Makes me almost wish Robbie was here."

"Where is he?"

"Home. He hates these kind of things so I don't make him come."

"So how are you getting home?" he asked as she already seemed a couple of sheets to the wind. Of course, he was starting to feel a little woozy himself.

"Came with a friend. She doesn't drink." Laughed. "Party pooper." Finishing off the dregs of her drink, she raised her glass. "I seem to be empty."

"Well, we can't have that."

"Walk me to the bar?"

He rose and gave her his arm. Maybe together they'd make it.

"Chivalry isn't dead after all," she purred and patted him on the rear.

An hour later, he was feeling more than a little woozy: he had definitely passed tipsy a ways back and was headed towards being rip-roaring drunk. Someone had replaced the Top 40 hit parade with some house and electronica and Brian had begun to feel right at home. Next thing he knew he was dancing with two guys and a woman he suspected was Sharon but he wasn't quite sure as his eyes weren't doing a great job of focusing on anything at the moment. Still, the music was hot, he was hot, and he felt like he could dance all night… 

 

Reaching down and feeling around next to the bed, he found a trash can and heaved into it. Wiped his mouth with his hand and laid back, head cushioned by a pillow covered in silk. Silk. He didn't remember any silk sheets on the hotel bed. And there was something else. The smell of sex in the air. With his eyes still closed, he turned his head. He could tell he wasn't alone. His pulse rate began to speed up. Oh God, no. No. He opened his eyes. "No." Almost falling in the attempt, he scrambled away from the bed despite feeling as if he'd run a marathon. His body ached but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. "No," he moaned and covered his face.

Kenneth lay in the bed. Sleeping. Now stirring, Brian's movements having disturbed him. He sat up. "Brian."

"No." Trembling, he backed away and bumped into a dresser behind him. Knocked something onto the floor. Kenneth threw back the covers and rose, took a step towards him. "Stay away from me." As he continued to approach, Brian yelled, "Stay the fuck away!" Kenneth reached for him. "Don't touch me!" He stumbled away and began searching for his clothes.

"Brian, please—"

"I want to go back to the hotel."

"Brian, let me explain. Brian…"

He found his briefs, wadded up next to the bed, and held them in his hands, still on his knees, head bowed. His shoulders shook as he wept.

Kenneth picked up his robe and tied it on. "I'll get Carl to take you back." 

 

He had no idea how he managed to get himself dressed, much less how he walked to the front door and waited for Carl to arrive with the car, Kenneth hovering uncomfortably in the background. Saying nothing as he exited the house, Brian boarded the car and hunched in the rear as Carl drove him back to the hotel. He tried to keep the tears at bay but could not. They rolled down his cheeks in the darkness. He felt disconnected from the world, didn't even know what time it was. Risking a glance up front, he located the dial in the dashboard amongst all the other gauges and gadgets. It was a little after five. Five o'clock. And he had no idea what had happened, had no memory of anything that had occurred in the past eight hours. Except that he had slept with Kenneth. Yet even that was something he could not remember.

Slinking past the attendant at the front desk, he prayed for the elevator to come quickly, then practically ran to his room, strength abandoning him as soon as the door was closed. He sat on the floor and covered his face, feeling the tears slide down his palms. "Oh, God… Oh, God…" What was he going to do? He had no idea. The one thing he did know was that he couldn't do it alone. 

 

"Hello?" The voice on the other end belied the fact that Drew had been deep in sleep.

"Doc."

Instantly the man seemed more alert. "Brian, what's wrong?"

He nearly laughed. "Everything."

"Brian—"

"Fuck. Fuck." And he began to sob again.

Drew sat up and put on his glasses. That always made him think more clearly. "I want you to calm down."

"I can't…"

"Brian, tell me what happened."

"I can't go home. I—"

"Where are you?"

"Birmingham."

Kenneth Harris. Shit. "Did something happen?"

"I can't go home."

"Brian, what happened?"

"I… I can't remember. I woke up… with Kenneth. I was… I was with Kenneth."

"You had sex with Kenneth."

"Oh, fuck… I can't go back there and…" He wanted to hide, wanted to find a dark hole and crawl into it and never exit again.

"When's your flight?" First things first. Get him home and then deal with the crisis. "Brian? Brian, when's your flight?"

"Nine. Nine thirty, I think."

"I want you to check. Find your ticket and check it." Drew listened as Brian rummaged around for the ticket. He could hear him opening the jacket. "What time?"

"Nine twenty-five."

"Okay, I want you to take a shower and get dressed. You understand?"

"It's so fucked."

 _Keep him focused._ "Take a shower and get dressed. Then pack your stuff. Are you listening to me?"

"I can't."

"You can. And after you're done packing, I want you to call me again. Can you do that, Brian?"

"Everything's ruined."

"No, it isn't. Now, do what I said. Okay? Okay?"

"All right."

"Brian, I swear to you, we'll figure something out." Only he wished he was as confident as he sounded. 

 

"You packed?"

"Yeah."

"Feel better?" Even though he knew he wasn't.

"I'm going to lose him."

"No, you won't."

"He's never going to forgive me."

"He will."

"Why?" He really needed a reason he could believe in.

"Because he loves you." Brian began to cry. "Brian, I need you to stay focused. I want you to check out of the hotel and take a cab to the airport. I want you to call me right before you board the plane. Can you do that?"

There was a long pause. "I'll call you." 

 

He'd been anxious for the past hour, hoping Brian would call, hoping he'd done the right thing. When the phone rang, he pounced on it. "Are you at the airport?"

"We're about to start boarding."

"What time does your flight get in?"

"One thirty."

"I'll meet you there. Justin drop you off?"

"I drove"

"So I'll meet you and we'll go someplace and talk. Is Justin going to be home?" He'd deliberately put the other half of the equation out of his mind during the entire ordeal. One thing at a time.

"Supposed to be working."

"Then we'll go to your place. And we'll figure out what to do." Silence. "Brian?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you soon."

Brian closed his cell and waited until they called for first-class passengers to board. As he settled into his seat, he hoped he'd be alone in his row. He was in no mood for idle chit-chat. It was all he could do not to burst into tears, to keep it together, to hold on until he reached Pitts. After that, he refused to speculate. 

 

He saw Drew waiting by the exit to long-term parking. There's no turning back now, he told himself.

"You okay?"

"Better." He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other just to give him something to do. "Thanks. For being here. For being there this morning."

"I'm glad you called."

"Sleeping alone?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Virtuously." Brian dropped his eyes. "Brian…"

"I tried not to think about it. On the plane. I tried to sleep, to keep my mind blank or occupied with work but it didn't help. It's all I thought about. And Justin. How he's going to react. I don't want to lose him, Doc. I can't. But I can't think of any reason why he should stay."

"He loves you."

"How much is he supposed to take?"

"Listen, there's no point in trying to guess what Justin's going to do. We need to focus on you. On how you're feeling."

He looked around at the busy people, swarming over the space like ants, and shuddered. "I need to get the hell out of here." 

 

Despite wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and hide, Brian had to deal first with Leo, who came running to the back door when he heard the key and insisted on being worshipped for a few moments before he would even think of letting the two men talk. After having placated Leo, he turned his attention to Drew who would be a lot harder to please. Brian put on the coffee and, once it was done, joined his therapist on the sofa by the fireplace.

"So tell me what happened."

"There was a party at Kenneth's house. A cocktail party. I had some drinks. Maybe too much. I thought I could handle it. Guess I couldn't."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was dancing with some of the people from the research team."

"Do you remember the other guests leaving?"

"No."

"Do you remember having sex with Kenneth?"

"No. I woke up in his bed and I don't know how I got there."

"Did you take anything?"

"What? Drugs? No."

"Do you think maybe Kenneth—"

"No." Despite having thrown up he couldn't imagine that he'd been drugged. That Kenneth had—no.

"Brian—"

"He wouldn't." And he believed that.

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because he's not that kind of a person." He wasn't like the Coach, wasn't… a rapist.

"But he'd take advantage of you while you were drunk?"

"We were all drinking."

"Brian, I know you don't want to think that—"

"It didn't happen that way."

"You don't know what happened. Did you ask him?"

"I just wanted to get out of there."

"Are you okay? Physically?"

"I wasn't a virgin." Not like before: a scared fourteen-year-old pretending to be wiser than he was, in over his head, lost after the first moment.

"That's not the point."

He put down his coffee after having picked it up, the need for it gone. "Justin is coming home and I don't what to say, how to explain what I've done."

"I want to talk about you. How do you feel?"

"I'm gonna lose him."

"Brian—"

"What am I going to do?"

"Talk to him."

"I would give my life for him. And all he wanted was for me to be faithful to him."

"You have been." At Brian's head shaking, he asked, "Are you planning on leaving him for Kenneth?"

"No."

"Then you have been faithful."

"If I lose him, then there's no point to any of this."

"Brian—"

"I'm telling you this now because I want you to understand." There was no give in his gaze and Drew believed him to be sincere.

"It won't come to that."

Before he could answer, he heard the door open. Leo rose to jump down. Justin.

"Brian!"

"In here," he replied although his voice barely carried.

Justin came in smiling. "I got off—" He saw Drew and the smile vanished. He searched Brian's face, then backed away. "No."

Trying to stop things before they escalated, Drew said, "Justin—"

"No!" He ran off, ran up the stairs.

"Stay here." Drew went after Justin, found him at the doorway of their bedroom. "Justin…"

He slumped against the doorframe, angry tears streaking his face. "No. Not again. Not Kenneth."

"Justin—"

"How many times! How many more times do I have to forgive him? I can't—I can't do this anymore." It just hurt too much. They'd come so far and now it had all been undone.

"Justin, listen to me. You don't know the entire story."

Bitterness nearly choked him. "What's the excuse this time?"

"I think Kenneth, or someone at the party, drugged Brian." He watched as anger turned to concern.

"What?"

"He doesn't remember what happened to him. There are almost eight hours of his life unaccounted for."

"Does he think Kenneth drugged him?"

"He doesn't want to believe that he would. He says he was drinking and that he was drunk. But, Justin… I think he was drugged." He added, "I think Kenneth might have raped him."

Just the possibility of that having occurred shook him. He didn't know if he had the strength to deal with it. He remembered Brian coming to him in the diner that time, arranging for them to meet at his place; remembered Brian asking him if he'd ever forced him to have sex, terrified that he'd done so and hadn't remembered. Both he and Drew knew how difficult it had been for Brian to come to grips with having been assaulted. The nightmares, the insecurities and doubts, the hidden fears. To go through that again… "I don't want to do this."

"Justin—"

"I'm so fucking tired."

"I know. But, Justin, so is he. And he's scared. He's scared of losing you, he's scared by what he thinks he's done. He's terrified by the idea that he might have been raped—he won't even consider it."

Another thought frightened Justin. "Did they use protection?"

"I didn't ask. I was too busy trying to get him home."

The problems, the trials never ended. "This time last year it was Xavier." There was no such thing as happily ever after.

"I'm sorry." If any two people deserved a reprieve, they did.

"I'll kill him."

Like at the trial, when Justin had run to comfort Brian, standing over him and daring the world to hurt him, he'd gone into protective mode.

"If he hurt Brian, I swear…"

And, as he'd done at the trial, Drew had to find a way to channel Justin's anger into something constructive. "Right now, you've got more important things to do."

Hearing them descend the stairs, he resisted the urge to run away. Whatever Justin had to say to him, he'd hear. But he couldn't meet his eyes as Justin came and sat next to him. The touch of Justin's fingers on his neck as he brushed them through the hair at the nape brought tears to his eyes. That Justin could touch him so intimately, so soothingly despite everything threatened to undo him.

"Are you all right?" Justin asked softly.

Unable to speak, Brian shook his head. The tears began again and he wanted to hide his face but there was no hiding from Justin. He'd seen him naked. There was no place to hide from him, not even within himself.

Justin enfolded Brian in a gentle embrace and held him. "It's okay. I'm here," he told him. "I'm here." 

 

With Brian tucked away in bed upstairs, Justin walked Drew to the door.

"I really wish he'd go and get checked out now," the therapist said, a crease between his brows.

Justin concurred. "But he won't. Maybe when he gets tested…" although that would be weeks away and by then whatever was in his system would have worked it's way out or done whatever damage it could.

A slip of paper exchanged hands.

Justin glanced at the scribbles without comprehending what they said.

"I know how much trouble he had sleeping… last year."

"He won't take them."

"At least he'll have them if he needs them." Before he left, he added, "Watch him closely. If he seems… if something seems strange, take him to the hospital, don't argue with him, just do it. Or call me and I'll come over and we'll Shanghai him and take him whether he wants to go or not."

"Should I be worried?" Justin asked, concerned that Drew seemed so concerned about Brian's health.

"Luckily," he said, "Brian's probably taken every drug known to man. He'll more than likely shake it off, if he was given something. Maybe he's right and he wasn't. Just—be careful." Giving Justin's arm a squeeze, he left.

And Justin was alone, except for Brian hopefully sleeping upstairs with Leo beside him. The kitten never lost an opportunity to take a nap although Justin didn't expect Brian to be up there long.

What would they say to each other now that Drew was gone? Even though he'd gone to Brian and tried to comfort him, tried to understand, he had to admit to himself that he was angry. With Kenneth… with Brian. Angry that he'd gone to that party, that he'd been drinking, that he'd put himself in a situation where Kenneth could take advantage of him. If he had. Maybe…

No. Shaking the thought from his head, he busied himself with lunch/dinner, in case Brian woke up and wanted to eat. Not that he would. Whenever he was stressed about something, his appetite was invariably affected, effectively vanished. Best to keep it light. Maybe a salad.

Taking the ingredients out of the refrigerator, he stood at the island and washed the vegetables, then began chopping and tearing everything apart. 

 

He couldn't sleep. Didn't suspect that he would sleep easily again for a while. The guys used to wonder how he could work all day and party half the night but the truth was, even if he had stayed home, he wouldn't have rested. A good night's sleep was the one thing he hadn't been wealthy enough or smart enough to acquire.

But that had changed so he'd thought. Gradually, over the years he'd known Justin, he had become adept at sleeping. Not that he hadn't had a restless night since Justin had come into his life but they'd become the exception and not the rule. He'd had bad periods though and this episode was already shaping up to be one of the worst.

Meowing, Leo came over and demanded to be petted, which Brian did absentmindedly. Pretty soon Justin would be up wanting to know if he would eat and he didn't want to, had no appetite whatsoever, but he would eat because it was such a little thing, the only thing he could do right now to please Justin. Why hadn't he stayed at the hotel? Or better yet, come back to Pitts after his last meeting? He could have caught an early flight and been home last night, tired but happy to be back where he belonged. And everything would have been perfect.

He heard the door open. Swung his legs over the edge of the bed and waited.

"Hey," said Justin as he sat down next to him.

"Hey." So much energy just to say one word.

"Hungry?"

"Little."

Although he knew Brian was lying, he was grateful for the small deception. "I made salad. Grilled some shrimp."

Looking away, Brian said softly, "I'm sorry."

"I know that you didn't meant to hurt me."

And Brian said, "One night Jack came home drunk. Not unusual. It was a Friday and he'd gotten paid so he'd gone out drinking with the boys. Anyway, he came home and he was in a good mood. Sometimes it happened. And he wanted to dance. He came home, put on some old record he and Joanie used to dance to way back when, and he came upstairs and got her out of bed. It was late, eleven, twelve o'clock at night and we're all up because the old man wants to dance. And they danced. For a while, they looked great. And then he gets the bright idea to swing Joanie around. Only Jack wasn't too steady on his feet because he was loaded. He didn't realize it, of course, because he was loaded. He's swinging Joanie around and she's getting dizzy and he's getting dizzier and the next thing you know, Jack stumbles and Joanie goes flying. Falls over a coffee table and gets banged up. Arm bruised, hip bruised… And he never meant to hurt her. But he did." He stood and began to walk from the room.

"You're not Jack," Justin told him and he paused. Justin joined him. "You're not Jack," he said once more, taking hold of Brian's arm.

"No," Brian agreed. "Because he never lied to her. He never told her that he wouldn't hurt her, so she never had any reason to expect anything better." And he pulled away and left the room.

Justin sat back down on the bed, Leo nudging him, perplexed maybe by their behavior. He himself understood very well. There was no reasoning with Brian when he was in one of his martyr moods. "It's okay, Leo," he told the kitten, wishing he believed it himself. Loathe to spend the evening with the black cloud of Birmingham hovering over them, poisoning the air, he thought maybe he could call Michael or Lindsay, have them come over and take Brian's mind off the past twenty-four hours but he knew that Brian wouldn't thank him for it and he didn't know if he could endure two or three hours of pretending everything was normal either. Deciding it was probably best not to have guests, he padded downstairs to join Brian.

Found him plating the salad and arranging the grilled shrimp on top. Without speaking, he handed a plate to Justin and picked up the bottle of vinaigrette that his partner had prepared. They carried everything to the table where Brian had already set out two wine glasses and a bottle of Chianti, silverware, napkins. In silence they began to eat, neither with much appetite.

Finally, Justin said, "We used to have dinners like this at home. Where no one said anything. My dad would eat and my mom would pretend to eat and I swore that it would never happen to me."

"What would you like me to say?"

Justin's answer was interrupted by the telephone. Before he could answer it, Brian had risen, grateful for the intrusion.

"Yeah," he said, not really thinking about who it could be.

"Brian."

Kenneth. Brian started to sever the connection when he spoke.

"Please. Don't hang up. I just—I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Brian replaced the phone on the hook. Waited for all expression to leave his face before returning to the table.

"Who was it?"

"Wrong number." 

 

The evening had passed slowly, Brian watching but not really seeing a film on television, Justin sketching by the fireplace, unwilling to leave Brian on his own. Now, as they undressed for bed, the truly difficult moment had arrived. Brian could feel Justin's desire for him and he longed to feel something other than shame and sadness but he did not unless it was the regret that seemed as much a part of him as his hair, his fingers. Turning over quickly to avoid the look of pain on Justin's face, he closed his eyes.

"Brian…?"

He felt the bed shift, knew that Justin was moving towards him and he tried to contract into a ball.

Justin stopped, drew back, rebuffed. Turned away from him and stared at the windows. 

 

For most of the morning they managed to keep to themselves, having eaten a light breakfast together at the table during which time they'd said very little to one another. After clearing away the dishes, Justin had gone into his studio to work and Brian, Brian had gone outside. He walked the yard from front to back, examining the flowers along the house, the trees that lined the fence, the patio area, the pool. The weather had been so unpredictable that they hadn't even taken the cover off yet. Now that they'd had some days warm enough for swimming outside, Justin had called a company about servicing the pool. Someone was supposed to come over and check things out at some point. He wasn't in that big of a hurry himself. Especially since Mel and Lindz had charged him and Justin with teaching Gus how to swim. Which only made sense as they had the pool and Gus was going to spend a week with them this month.

Sitting on the patio just above the pool, he surveyed the yard. He and Justin had talked about building a tree house but Lindz had nixed that idea, afraid that Gus would fall out of it and hurt himself even though they hadn't planned on building it until he was older. Still, they wanted him to have a place to play outside. Inside, he had his room which was bigger than most kids' rooms and play rooms put together. There was no problem with space or privacy.

Suddenly he sniffled. What right did he have to make plans? Once again, he'd fucked things up. Justin was in the house pretending to work so that he didn't have to think about the mess Brian had again made of their lives and he was outside wondering where they'd go from here. A new home and a life in shambles. Separated again after having sworn never again to be apart.

His drawing had lost its interest. He'd only gotten out paper and pencil in the first place to keep his mind off of things. Now, looking at Brian seated on the patio, he found that he could not concentrate. Especially when he realized that Brian had begun to cry. He could see his shoulders shaking, see his body shaking with sobs. Justin stood, intending to go to him, when the doorbell sounded. Christ. He spoke impatiently into the intercom. "Yeah?"

"Justin, it's Drew Becker."

He breathed easier. "Which door?"

"Front."

"I'll be right there." He found Drew at the front door dressed in a pair of shorts and a polo shirt, as if he'd just come from or were on his way to a tennis date.

"I'd ask how you were doing but I can see how you're doing. Rough night?"

"We've barely said a dozen words to each other since you left yesterday." Justin looked down, tears beginning. "He's… out back. Sitting by the pool and crying. All I can do is watch him."

Drew put his arm around Justin and held him briefly. "We've been through a lot together. I don't intend to give up on you two. Not yet. It's way too early for that."

"Four days ago… we were happy," he said. Went and sat on the steps of the tower stairs.

"You will be again."

"That a promise?" asked Justin but he wasn't naïve enough to believe that Drew would answer.

"I think that you need to get out of the house for a while. Have you gotten Brian's prescription filled?"

"No."

"Why don't you go do that?" Drew suggested. "Get some fresh air."

"And then what?"

"And then we'll see."

Nodding, Justin went to go find the prescription.

Drew walked through the hall to the conservatory and then out one of the French doors that led to the backyard. It struck him, once again, how beautiful the house and grounds were, how elegant and ordered; how well matched Brian and Justin were with the house, being beautiful themselves. Elegant. Yet their lives were highly disordered. Sometimes he wondered if that wasn't their natural state, if somehow they didn't thrive on chaos. Brian especially seemed to go out of his way to find trouble. Still, to be fair, he couldn't have avoided the situation with Kenneth. They were business associates and that relationship demanded that they spend some time together. Brian had had no choice.

He'd thought it was Justin coming to ask him about lunch but the stride was all wrong. Turning, he saw who it was and glanced away.

"Nice to be missed."

"Where's Justin?"

"Errand."

"You here to baby-sit?"

"I'm here to talk."

"Don't feel like it."

"Fine." He perched on the patio next to Brian. Said nothing, just gazed up at the sky.

Brian thumbed the corner of his eye. "What do you see up there?"

"Sky, clouds. Nothing magical."

"It is to Gus." Paused. "And Justin."

"And you?"

He glanced upwards then back down again. "No."

"Brian—"

"I said I didn't feel like talking." He stood and headed back to the house.

"You can't run away from your problems."

He laughed abruptly. "I found that in a fortune cookie once."

"You said you didn't want to lose him," Drew called after Brian. "How about you prove that?"

Brian turned and flung out his arms. "You got a time machine?"

"You don't need one. But you do need to talk to him. Stop shutting him out."

"He doesn't want to hear what I have to say."

Drew felt chilly. "Then tell me."

He shaded his eyes against the sunlight then went inside.

Figuring he hadn't gone far, Drew found him in the family room, perched on the couch. He took a seat and waited. Brian said nothing, wouldn't even look at him. Finally Drew took the initiative. "Do you think you'll say something that I haven't heard before?"

"Maybe it's not about what you've heard. Maybe it's about saying something that I don't want to say."

"Like what?"

"Leave it alone. Leave me alone." Before Drew could stop him, he'd left the room. This time the therapist didn't follow him. It was obvious that whatever Brian needed to get out of his system, now wasn't the time.

He was still sitting in the family room when Justin returned from the drug store. In answer to the young man's unasked question, he said, "Maybe next week."

"Maybe next week what?"

"He'll feel like talking."

"And I'm supposed to wait until then?"

"Justin—"

"What about me? What about what I need?" He threw the bag he'd carried in onto the sofa. "When is it my turn?"

Not wanting to be cruel but feeling that he had to put an end to that kind of talk, Drew reminded him, "You had your turn. Last year," he said softly.

Justin sat.

"I'm sorry."

"It's true." He twisted the band on his finger. "I almost lost him last year."

"I—"

"I can't go through that again." Hugged himself. "I can't."

Drew tried to reassure him. "It won't come to that."

"You can't promise me that! You can't promise me anything. I’m afraid to leave him alone. I'm afraid to close my eyes… And it's only been one day." He shuddered. "How many more days do I have to go through?"

"He just needs some time. He'll come around. He'll talk to me and we'll figure it out. All of us."

"Fine."

"Justin—"

"What else can I say? I either believe you and have some hope… Or I don't." 

 

He'd gone upstairs to sulk. That's what Justin would have called it and he would have been right. And he would have except that Leo managed to sneak into the room with him and refused to leave his side. Refused to leave him alone. Wanted to be petted and stroked. To be loved.

Much like Kenneth had.

Brian held his head in his hands. Why couldn't he remember? He'd been drunk hundreds of times and he'd never had a memory lapse like that before. Maybe it was a good thing that he had forgotten. It was easier that way. Nothing to hold onto. No memories, fond or otherwise. Except that it wasn't easy. If it were easy he'd be downstairs with Justin helping him fix lunch instead of sitting upstairs in their bedroom brooding. Maybe he should have talked to Kenneth last night. Found out what had happened and why. Only he knew why they'd slept together. Because Kenneth loved him. _And what about you?_ He tried to turn away but the voice persisted. _Do you love him?_

He went outside onto the loggia, grabbing his cigarettes from the nightstand. As the door shut, Leo meowed softly, upset at being left behind. Agitated, he paced for a while then settled down to watch Brian from the inside.

 _I should have talked to Drew._ Smoke encircled his head. _And said what?_ That he didn't know. What about tomorrow? He'd tried to forget that tomorrow was Monday, that he'd be expected to go to work and report on his trip, on the progress they'd made, on the fine job they'd done for Hyperion. All the while thinking about Kenneth, about waking up next to Kenneth, knowing that they'd had sex.

And the test.

He needed to be tested again.

Suddenly he felt very tired and the thought came to him, _What if he raped you? What if you forgot because he raped you?_

The door opened behind him. "Brian?"

"Yeah."

"You want anything for lunch?"

"Like what?"

He lifted a shoulder. "Whatever you want."

"I'm not really hungry," said Brian, taking a draw on his cigarette.

"You should eat." Knowing that it was a risky proposition, he approached him.

"Don't say it. Don't say that you understand how I feel. And don't say that you understand what happened because you don't. You weren't there. You don't know."

"Then why don't you tell me?"

"Because I don't know!" _Maybe I don't want to know._

Taking his arm, Justin said, "I just want to help."

"Help me do what? Remember? You want to help jog my memory so that I can remember fucking Kenneth?" Justin flinched and let go. "You want to help me analyze my feelings for him? Maybe discover that I—"

"Don't."

"Then what? What exactly are you going to help me do? Deal with the fact that I might be HIV positive? How about that? Think you can handle that?"

Justin started towards the house.

"No. So why bother talking about it?"

He turned back. "Because you promised me that you would. That we would share our lives. Come what may." Shook the tears from his eyes. "But maybe you didn't really mean it. Maybe I was stupid for ever believing in you."

Hand trembling, Brian stubbed out his cigarette and made no attempt to stop Justin. What would he say to him if he did? I'm sorry? It was way too fucking late for that. 

 

He didn't see Justin for the rest of the day, holed up as he was in their bedroom, Justin keeping to his studio and the first floor. He kept waiting for the doorbell to ring and one of their friends to show up to make the hellish day complete but no one did. Small favor. So he wasted away the afternoon pretending to read The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger which he'd bought now that they'd released a new and expanded version. He'd always felt a kind of kinship with Roland. Understood how it felt to watch everything familiar vanish around you, leaving you alone and confused, holding onto memories and habits that no longer had a place in the world. Or worse, knowing that the world had passed on, leaving you behind. Tempting you with the idea that if you'd only find the right door, the right key to open that door, you'd be able to return to normalcy.

Only the world he'd used to inhabit, he'd left voluntarily. Partying, drinking, drugging, tricking. He'd turned his back on that life to make a new one with Justin. Normalcy now meant responsibilities, duties, vows, and promises that seemed impossible to keep. Except that Justin asked so little. All he wanted was for Brian to open up to him. Talk to him. Yet that was so much. Especially now when he was sure of very little.

Around dinner time Justin appeared at the doorway. "There's lasagna."

" 'kay."

Without waiting to see if he'd come down, Justin departed.

Washing up, Brian went downstairs to find the table already set for two. A bottle of red wine decanting. Testament to Justin's eternal optimism. Leo was munching away at his bowl. Justin was fixing their plates. Everything as it should be, everything in its place.

"Smells great," he said as Justin sat down.

"Thanks."

Before taking a bite, he asked, "What's in it?"

"Bolognese sauce. Prosciutto, beef, and pork."

"Mmm…" He tasted the lasagna. "Delicious."

As if he'd been waiting for Brian's judgement, Justin began to eat as well. "I'm glad your appetite's back."

For a few minutes they busied themselves with eating. It was easier to focus on the food than to converse, especially about difficult things. But, finally, Brian broached the topic, "I'm sorry about what I said today."

Accepting his apology, Justin replied, "I know that I can't really help you—"

"Sometimes I say things that I don't really mean because I don't know the right things to say." He lowered his fork. "This time… I don't think there are any right things to say."

"It doesn't matter to me. I just… I don't want to be shut out. Even if it hurts." He reached across the table and held Brian's hand.

"It will. It will hurt, no matter what." He pulled free, left the table, stood hugging himself by the window to the pergola. Tears crawled down his cheeks. He heard Justin's chair scrape the floor. Felt Justin's arm snake around his waist. Turned and returned the embrace. 

 

He'd thought that things would be different. After all, they'd come to some sort of understanding, some kind of peace. But tonight, after they'd gone to bed, Brian had turned from him, the same as the night before. 

 

 _What is she trying to do? Win the Administrative Assistant of the Year Award?_ he thought as Cynthia greeted him at the door and took his briefcase and coat.

"Welcome back, Boss."

"Yeah," he replied, reaching for his cigarettes.

Putting his things away, she exited.

Good. Maybe she'd leave him alone which was what he desperately needed this morning. Taking that first puff on his cigarette, he nearly sighed. Last night had been a fucking disaster.

Cynthia returned with a cup of coffee, left it on his desk, and hightailed it out of his office, shutting the door behind her.

Shit. Still, it was better than being at home. Last night he'd turned away from Justin's offer of comfort. A foot away from his husband, he'd felt the young man's pain and disappointment but had been unable to assuage his feelings. This morning Justin had barely looked at him much less spoken to him as he'd gotten ready for work.

As he walked to Ryder's office, he went over in his mind all the ways he could fuck this up and swore to himself that he wouldn't. He'd go in and report on the new campaign and he'd leave and that would be that. He'd finish out the day and never let on that he was screaming on the inside.

Ryder waved Brian in. "Saw Kenneth on the news last night. Looked good."

"What?"

"They ran a story on their new drug. Saw it on CNN last night."

He would have seen it, if he and Kenneth were talking. "Must have missed it."

"You didn't know about it?" He frowned. "Have you talked to Harris today?"

"No."

"Maybe you should. That was some spectacular free publicity. We need to make sure we follow-up on it."

"Yeah, I know how to run an ad campaign, Marty." Instantly he regretted the tone he'd taken. So much for laying low.

"Something wrong?"

"Everything's fine."

"Sure? Problems at home?"

"Why do you assume that there's something wrong between me and Justin?"

"I—"

"I really resent that," he snapped as he stood.

"Brian—"

The door slammed shut.

Inside his office, he closed the door and slumped against it. What the fuck was he doing? As if he had any room to be righteously indignant. Truth was, it had pissed him off that Ryder had hit the nail on the head. "Fuck." He dropped into his chair and swiveled around, stared out the window. What was he going to do?

When the door opened, he knew it was Marty. Holdover from the old days when he'd been an underling. "Brian? I came to apologize."

He shook his head. "You don't have to."

"I didn't mean to imply anything negative about you and Justin. I respect your marriage."

"I know. I'm just… Still tired from the trip, I guess."

"Why don't we postpone the partner's meeting? You can go home, relax."

He started to refuse. The last thing he wanted was to go home and do nothing but dwell on this past weekend. But he couldn't imagine actually getting anything productive done at work today. Maybe the safe thing to do would be to go home and deal with his personal issues first. As if they could be resolved in an afternoon. "You don't mind?"

"You've worked hard on the Hyperion campaign. What's the point in being a partner if you can't enjoy any of the perks?"

"I appreciate it."

Once Marty was gone, he set about packing his briefcase. Cynthia came in, a worried look on her face.

"You okay, Boss?"

"Just a little tired."

"Sure?"

"Positive." And he froze.

"Brian?"

"I'm okay. Do me a favor. Contact the people on the Hyperion team and let them know that Kenneth went for the concept and we need to get moving. Print ads, TV spots, the works. They can start casting for the ads so we can roll next week. The partner's meeting is pushed back to tomorrow. Find out when it is and schedule a team meeting around it."

"Done."

"Thanks."

She smiled. "Brian Kinney delegating. Who'd have believed it?"

He grabbed his coat. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye-bye," she waved and hoped he got some rest. He looked awful. 

 

When he realized what he'd done, he apologized and tried to wipe the guy's shirt off as best he could. Luckily, he was cute and the guy liked twinks. Stammering another apology, he figured he'd slink away out back and try to get his shit together.

"Sunshine?"

Of course, she'd seen. Half the diner had seen him pour ice tea down the guy's shirt front. "Yeah?"

"You all right?" Her voice was the model of concern.

"Fine."

"Then maybe you should see about getting some glasses."

He cringed. In an instant she had turned hard. That was her way. No one took any offense. "Sorry."

Then the concern returned. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

She pulled him aside. "You were never a very good liar. Hey, Lola, taking five," she shouted and they went outside. "So, what's going on?"

It wasn't his secret to tell but he was just about to the breaking point and really needed to talk to someone. "It's Brian," he said unnecessarily.

She snorted. "Of course, it's Brian. What's going on?"

"Something happened while he away on business."

That was a euphemism if she'd ever heard one. "Who'd he sleep with?"

Her immediate assumption that he'd deliberately slept with someone hurt. "He didn't do it on purpose."

"Who was it? Some trick?"

"Kenneth. Kenneth Harris."

"Holy shit." Deb searched his face. "You know what happened?"

"No. Neither does he. He doesn't remember anything," Justin explained.

"What?"

"Last thing he remembers is being at this party at Kenneth's house. After that, nothing."

Carefully she asked, "Did he go to the hospital? Get tested for drugs?"

Justin shook his head. "He says he wasn't drugged and that he didn't take anything."

"Well," she said, "if there's anyone who knows about drugs, it's Brian." Smiled. "I thought that would cheer you up."

He sniffled and looked away.

"Sunshine, I'm sorry. I know this sucks big time. But he's home and he's all right."

"He's not all right." Justin knuckled a tear away.

She hugged him. "He will be. He always comes through. And you'll help him. Just like you always do."

"What if I can't? What if no one can?"

"That's negative thinking and I will not have any of that. You hear me?" She lifted his chin. "Do you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Pecking him on the cheek first, she popped him on the butt. "And don’t call me ma'am."

He smiled for the first time in days. "Thanks, Deb." Maybe things would be all right. 

 

That feeling lasted until he pulled into the yard and saw Brian's Jeep already there. His heart started pounding and he leapt from the Cherokee and ran into the house shouting, "Brian!"

"What?"

Justin rushed into the kitchen, saw Brian standing at the stove grilling fish it smelled like. He slumped against the fridge and took a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" asked Brian, turning from the stove and looked closely at him.

"Nothing," he said.

"Justin?" Brian didn't believe that for a moment.

"I thought…" He took another draught of air. "I thought…"

"No," Brian told him, having gone cold once he realized what Justin meant. "I swear to you, I would never do that." Shaking, he gathered Justin in his arms. Held him as he sniffled. "I swear."

"Don't leave me."

"I won't. Baby, I promise."

Now that the danger was over, Justin's fear gave over to feelings of desire. He wanted Brian, wanted him badly. Holding onto him, he tried to kiss him but Brian avoided his touch. "What?"

"Not now."

"Then when?" he wanted to know.

"Justin."

He drew Brian's head down. "Please."

"I said no." Brian pulled away and turned back to the fish.

Watching him for a moment, Justin said, "I'll be in the studio."

"Lunch'll be ready soon."

"Fuck it. Since you won't fuck me," he added before going.

Brian turned off the grill and removed the fish. Counted to ten and then to twenty and then to a hundred and then he went to find Justin.

He was sitting at his drafting table, pencil in hand, staring at the sky.

"What do you see up there?" Brian asked.

Justin's head moved slightly. "Used to see us. The future."

"I used to daydream about making love to you. Cynthia would come into my office and I'd be sitting there, this stupid-ass smile on my face, hard as a fuckin' rock." Justin started to rise. "I loved having sex. I loved fucking. Now there's this hole in my memory and I don't know why. Except that maybe I don't want to remember what happened with Kenneth. Maybe I don’t want to touch you because it reminds me of touching him. And I don't want to know. I don't want to know what that's like."

"So we let him destroy everything between us?" He did rise then and go to Brian. "I can't live like this, with these walls between us. We need to talk, we need… I feel like every since you came back from Birmingham, everything's changed. You won't touch me, you won't make love to me—"

"Why would you want me to?"

"Because I love you! No matter what you've done, I still love you. And I thought you loved me. I thought, I thought between us we could make everything right again." Brian said nothing. "I guess I should get back to work." He returned to his drafting table and sat down, face towards the back yard.

After a moment, Brian left the conservatory. 

 

Separately they had leftover lasagna. Then Brian retired upstairs to do some work in his office leaving Justin the family room. Unused to choosing between the two of them, Leo paced from floor to floor until he finally tired himself out and went to sleep on their bed.

Justin flipped through the channels then gave up. Left it on a nondescript mystery. He had a mystery of his own. How he and Brian had gone from being deliriously happy to being utterly miserable. Except he knew what had happened. Kenneth fucking Harris had happened. Scheming and planning and waiting for an opportunity, for a moment of weakness. And he'd been rewarded for his patience. He'd finally gotten what he wanted. Only he hadn't. Justin was sure that Kenneth had wanted more. He'd wanted Brian but he hadn't gotten him. All Kenneth had done was fuck things up for everybody.

Cutting off the television, Justin seethed. He had to get out of the house, get away from Brian and thoughts of Kenneth. Wished he could get out of his head, forget about everything. But he couldn't. He couldn't forget. But he could get out of the house for a while and hang. 

 

"I think you're expecting too much too soon," she told him.

"Daph, he won't even kiss me."

"He's been through a traumatic experience."

"It's not like he was raped." Although they couldn't be sure, couldn't be sure Kenneth hadn't drugged Brian to make him compliant. And if that were true… Jesus, he didn't even want to begin to think about the repercussions.

"Still, losing his memory on top of being with someone else must be hard for him. I don't understand why you're being so impatient."

"Maybe because after all of the shit we've been through, the one thing I know we can't do is make it alone. He'll worry himself to death and then when he can barely stand it anymore, he'll ask for help. And meanwhile we're both miserable, we're both losing our fucking minds. The least we can do is go crazy together." He tossed his swizzle stick onto the table. "And… we're newlyweds. I miss him. I miss touching him. I miss him holding me." If Kenneth had ruined that, no matter what Dr. Drew said, he'd find a way to make him pay for hurting Brian.

"It won't be for forever. You'll come through. You always do."

No one except maybe Drew really understood how hard it had been for them. No matter how many times he'd shared his fears, his friends and family could never really know what it had been like for him, listening to Brian explain why he wanted to kill himself. They'd never know what it had taken for him to offer Brian a choice between living with him and dying. Never understand just how committed he'd been to accepting Brian's decision, whatever it was. And they'd never know how empty he'd felt inside, knowing that if Brian died, so would he. Dr. Drew was the only one who understood and he had his hands full with Brian. There didn't seem to be anyone he could talk to. 

 

He'd gone to bed alone, leaving Brian in his study and he'd awakened alone, the covers undisturbed on Brian's side of the bed. He checked the clock. Brian was probably downstairs having breakfast. He'd slept through him showering and dressing. One of the benefits of a baronial suite. Justin found him in the kitchen, standing at the island drinking a cup of coffee. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"Sofa," he replied.

"Plan on sleeping there tonight?"

Brian rinsed the cup out and left it in the sink. "I'm late."

Too shocked to say anything, Justin watched him leave the kitchen. Leo came and stood on his hind legs, leaning against him. Justin felt as if he could barely support the weight. 

 

There was nothing he could have said. He'd spent the night, sleepless, on the sofa despite having found the bottle of sleeping pills Drew had prescribed. Left it unopened on the coffee table, preferring to stare at the black hole of the fireplace all night.

Now, seated behind his desk, he found that his mind was not on work. Not on Justin either. Instead, it turned repeatedly to Kenneth. And the eight lost hours. Kenneth knew what had happened. He could ask him and Kenneth would tell him. If only he'd ask.

An hour later, after having pissed around trying to avoid doing anything, he called the biochemist on his private line, bypassing his secretary.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Is this about the campaign?"

"I want… I want to know what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"What happened that night."

"Brian—"

"I don't remember."

"Anything?"

"Nothing."

"We had sex."

"That much was obvious."

"Then what do you want me to tell you?"

Brian looked about in confusion. What did he want Kenneth to say? That he hadn't been raped? That he'd wanted to sleep with him?

"Do you want me to tell you how we danced together after all the other guests were gone? How you led me to the bedroom and undressed me?"

"Stop."

"How you kissed me…"

"No."

"How you moaned when I touched you? When I pushed inside you? When I fucked you?"

Brian hung up the phone and stared warily at it as if he were afraid it'd suddenly come to life and strike him. If he could believe Kenneth, at least it wasn't rape. But the thought of him voluntarily having sex with Harris brought him no comfort.

All day his thoughts were bombarded with images of Kenneth making love to him. In the middle of the Hyperion team meeting he suddenly looked away from the table, cheeks flushed.

"Brian?" someone said and he shook his head, shook free of the vision that had taken hold of him.

Only to succumb later in his office: flashes of skin touching skin, lips parted in a moan. He held his head and closed his eyes, hoping the darkness would help. But it didn't. He knew what would. 

 

The door slamming startled him and he rose, not really sure what had happened but intending to find out. Just as he neared the front door, Brian came from out of the shadow of the tower stairwell and grabbed him. Kissed him hard. They stumbled back into the shadows, coming out of their clothes. A tube of lube fell from Brian's coat pocket.

Justin gripped the curving banister as Brian pumped against him. The line of the banister echoed the strong line of his back, arched, shoulders tensing, buttocks flexing. Sweat followed the path of his spine and he groaned as they struggled against one another.

Brian held onto his waist and buried his cock deep in his ass. His luscious ass. His round, perfect, beautiful ass. He wanted to stay inside him forever. Giving him a couple of hard thrusts, he backed out of Justin and fell against the wall, dropped down to the floor, dick pointed towards the roof. Justin gave him but a moment and then he knelt over Brian's waist, reached back for his erection, and sat down on it, crying out as he was penetrated. Hands braced on the wall, he fucked himself on his husband's cock, bucking against him. Brian's belly was streaked with silvery precum. As Justin bounced above him, he gripped the young man's swollen cock and pressed the head. Massaged it, coaxing even more precum from its reddened tip. Justin yelped and came, creamy jizz crisscrossing Brian's chest. He slumped against him, Brian sucking his tit as Justin's ass tightened around him and brought him off, shooting up his lover's asshole.

Utterly spent, Brian leaned against the wall, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

Feeling him soften, Justin rose up, freeing himself, then settled back down on Brian's lap, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Softly, he kissed his face, making his way leisurely to his lips. "I love you," he said, kissing him once more.

About to respond in kind, suddenly the implications of what they'd done became clear to him, sending tremors through his body. He trembled as he buried his face in Justin's chest.

"What?" asked Justin, confused by the change.

"We didn't use protection," he whispered, afraid almost to say it out loud. "I forgot."

"It's all right."

"No, it isn't." Brian tried to put Justin away from him but he wasn't having it. He held on tighter.

"Talk to me."

"I don't..." Confused, frightened, the words wouldn't come.

"Then don't say anything," Justin replied and stroked his hair. 

 

The peace held for a week, the two of them having arrived at some place where they could be together without discussing what had occurred either in Birmingham or at home. It was, at best, a fragile peace, one whose shaky tenants wouldn't hold up for very long under intense scrutiny, but it allowed them to function, to go about their daily lives without undue stress. For that, they were grateful. But they were each knew that it would not last. That fact hovered over their heads, just out of sight, but present.

Brian saw Drew once without mentioning either the episode in the stairwell or the phone call to Kenneth that had precipitated it. Neither had he told Justin that they'd spoken. The sins of omission piled up.

They had dinner with the Munchers and no one brought up Birmingham although both women knew what had happened. Debbie knew which meant everyone knew. But no one broached the subject. All of their friends were very careful not to bring up Kenneth Harris which, ordinarily, wouldn't have been difficult to do as they did not think about him on an everyday basis. Ordinarily. Now, he was on everyone's mind. They all surreptitiously watched Brian for signs. Of what, they did not know.

Justin refused to think about the possibilities. If Brian wasn't as carefree as before, at least he wasn't brooding, not visibly. They made love, using condoms, and talked of inconsequential things. Brian ran on the treadmill and then steamed in the sauna when he got tense; Justin sketched. It was enough. For the moment. 

And then Frank brought over the book.

He showed up one afternoon around one. Justin had the day off and was home puttering about, not really doing much of anything but wasting time. The events in Birmingham had rendered his commission null and void, if not officially, then de facto. He couldn't imagine completing the drawings under the circumstances and, as a result, he found himself at a loss as to what to do with himself. He was to have spent the summer working on the commission for Kenneth. Now…

At the knock, he went to see who it was and prayed that it wasn't any of their relatives or friends. He just wasn't in the mood. Probably wasn't though. They were most likely at work. Opening the door, he found Frank standing there with a book in his hands. "Hi."

"Hello."

After the initial surprise had dissipated a bit, Justin invited him in. "Can I get you something?"

"Oh, no," Frank declined, "I just finished lunch." He did, however, take a seat when it was offered, handing Justin the book as he sat. "I thought you might like that."

 _"Paul Cadmus: The Male Nude,"_ Justin read on the cover of the hardbound book. "I've never heard of him."

"You've probably seen his work, just didn't know whose it was. He was gay," Frank added.

Which explained why he'd probably thought Justin would like to read about him.

"Wasn't extremely vocal about it. Considered himself an artist who was gay, not a gay artist."

Justin opened the book, flipping through the accompanying essay, growing more curious as Frank sketched a hasty portrait of the artist. His early relationship with another painter and his lifelong friendship with the man and the woman who would become the man's wife. How they all worked together and took photographs using a collective name: PaJaMa.

"I think I've seen that name before." Having come across some of the smaller nudes, he anxiously turned to the back of the book and began paging through the larger plates. "Wow," he said, appreciatively, "this is amazing."

"He was an extraordinary artist."

"Reminds me of Michelangelo or one of the Renaissance painters."

"He considered himself an heir to the artists of that period." Hands on his knees, Frank stood. "Well, enjoy the book."

Standing too, Justin said, "I'll return it as soon as I can."

"No, no, that's a gift."

Justin shook his head, tried to give the book back. "I can't…"

"Of course, you can. It deserves a better fate than sitting in my library gathering dust." The matter was closed.

Accompanying Frank to the door, Justin said, "Thank you."

"I thought of him when I saw the sketch you'd done of Brian. It's quite good. Are there more?"

Rosy color crept into his cheeks. "A few," he equivocated.

"Well, you're very talented and you've got quite a model. Be a shame to waste the opportunity." Saying goodbye, Frank took his leave.

Going to his studio, Justin spent the next hour pouring over the plates in the book, studying each drawing in detail, going back and reading the essay closely to absorb as much as he could about Cadmus and his technique. Not only that, he was fascinated and touched by Cadmus' story. For thirty years, he sketched his lover and companion, Jon Andersson, each change lovingly documented in his work.

Afterwards, he sat at his drafting table, gazing out at the sky. He'd been pissing around as far as the commission from Kenneth Harris went. Hadn't really put in the time he should have and now the opportunity had probably passed him by. He didn't have any idea how things would eventually play out between Brian and Kenneth but he was wasting time. Commission or not, he had an amazing model, one he never grew tired of looking at. Maybe it was time they both remembered that.

He spent the rest of the afternoon putting Brian through numerous poses in his mind, each capturing a different facet of his personality, a different mood, and he thought that if he had a hundred years, there would still be variations left to discover.

When Brian arrived home, Justin was hard-pressed not to begin sketching him immediately. It felt as if a hundred years had passed since he'd last put pencil to paper. But somehow he managed to make it through dinner, engaging in small talk as they ate. After they cleaned up, Brian decided to veg in front of the television which gave Justin his opportunity. Surreptitiously, he hoped, he retrieved his sketchpad from the studio and sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, which gave him a good vantage point from which to draw. He'd been working steadily for a few minutes when Brian's head swiveled towards him.

"What are you doing?"

"Sketching."

"What?"

"You."

Brian looked away. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to."

"Brian—"

He got up. "Just stop it."

Justin met him as he headed for the doorway. "Brian. Please. Talk to me." The man started to leave again but Justin moved to block his exit. "Please."

"Leave me alone," he growled, pushing past him.

"I can't!" And something of the desperation in his voice must have gotten through because Brian paused. But now that he had Brian's attention, he found that the right words had escaped him. In truth, he didn't know what he could say to make Brian listen. Sniffling, he stared past Brian at the reception hall, the hazy golds of the Turner paintings casting a dreamy pall over the space. "I promised that I wouldn't," he said, picking up where he'd left off. "Standing right over there." Justin pointed towards the French doors leading to the studio. "I promised that I would help you, take care of you for as long as I lived." A tear slipped down his cheek. "That's all I know how to do," he confessed. "And to love you." He couldn't meet Brian's eyes, couldn't see the rejection in them. It was too much. He remembered Rev. Ophelia telling them that they would be shelter for one another, and warmth; remembered thinking that day, _I can do it. I can be the man he needs me to be. I can._ But now it seemed as if he couldn't be that man. In pain, he began to walk away when he felt Brian's hand on his shoulder. Turning, he rushed back to him, to the promise of an embrace, and he rested his head on Brian's chest, content to be momentarily reprieved from grief. 

 

"No one understands."

"What are we not understanding?" asked Ophelia. Justin had showed up on her doorstep and she’d joked, _"Here for marriage counseling so soon?"_ The haunted look in his eyes had made her regret her levity.

"How lost I feel when things aren’t right between us," Justin replied. He stirred his cup of tea pointlessly as the sugar he’d put in it had long since dissolved.

"It’s like that song," she said, hoping to make him smile. Sang, _"When something is wrong with my baby,/ Something is wrong with me."_ 9

Justin laughed although it had the slightly tangy taste of bitterness.

"We do understand, lamb," Reverend Ophelia explained. "We were there. And because we were there, we know, just as you do deep down, that it’d take something very powerful to tear you two apart. Now matter how bleak it looks to you now."

"Kenneth is powerful. And what Brian feels for him… that’s powerful too."

"But it’s not one one-hundredth of what he feels for you. Tell you a secret?" She leaned forward. "I’ve never seen anyone more in love than he was on your wedding day. I can’t believe that’s changed."

Reluctantly, he admitted that it hadn’t. "It’s not that he loves me any less… It’s that he maybe realizes that he loves Kenneth more than he’d thought. It was just innocent flirtation and then it became something more and he wouldn’t deal with it. He just—he just let it grow." And that’s what he was really angry about, that Brian had known what might happen and had done nothing.

"How can you stop feeling what you do? Despite being married and in love with your husband and him loving you, here you are telling me that you’re scared. And no matter what I tell you, you’ll go on feeling scared until it passes or until you learn how to deal with that fear."

"I know that’s what he was doing. But, now, everything’s all messed up and I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse. I…I'm afraid for him." He couldn’t even say, "I'm afraid he might try to kill himself," and all the reassurances on Brian’s part couldn’t make him believe otherwise. Brian was close to the breaking point. All it’d take was one seemingly harmless event and he’d crack. Justin could see the signs. They’d been there last year and he’d ignored them to both their detriment.

Having unraveled the meaning behind his words, she asked, "Do you think he might harm himself?"

"He says that he won’t. But he’s tried before. More than once."

"Then you’re wise not to believe him. But, Justin, lamb, all you can do is to have faith." She touched his knee, squeezed it briefly. "Faith in him, in his love for you, and in your love for him. Have faith that the vows you spoke were more than mere words. I believe that they were. I believe that everything you said to one another is true. That the truth of it is inside of you."

He set his tea down upon the coffee table, watching ripples form. "It’s hard to believe that, late at night, when you’re sleeping alone. Feels like someone's opened a window and let the cold in."

 _Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other._ That's what she'd said and she knew that he was thinking of those words as well. Wished she had the right words to comfort him but she did not. What could you say to someone who was facing the very real possibility of losing the one person they were meant to be with? She'd said all she could, given him the best advice she had. Have faith. She hoped it'd be enough. 

On their own for the evening, Brian and Leo had supper alone, Brian seated at the table, Leo lying in one of the empty chairs, and then settled down on the sectional to watch television until they drifted off. Their plan was succeeding admirably when the phone rang, disturbing the peace.

"Yeah."

"Brian."

He sat back on the sofa. Kenneth. Over the past week he'd been in contact with Hyperion but via the members of his team who spoke with the VP in charge of sales. It was an arrangement that seemed to suit both he and Harris as he hadn't heard from him since their abortive phone call that Tuesday. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"So you've forgotten what happened between us?"

"Yes!" Brian exclaimed, almost laughing.

Kenneth didn't find the joke, such as it was, very amusing. "I told you what happened."

Angry, Brian replied, "Your version of the truth."

"You wanted me. You came on to me."

"So you say."

"Everyone at the party saw you."

"Saw me do what?" he challenged.

"Ask me to dance. Saw you kiss me. Saw you almost drag me down in a corner to fuck." He was being deliberately crude, not wanting to leave Brian any wiggle room.

"That's a lie."

"Just because you don't want to think about it, doesn't mean that it didn't happen."

And he could see it in his mind, him rubbing up against Kenneth, wanting to fuck, like some kind of animal driven by instinct. It wasn't difficult to imagine. He'd imagined it before, before the incident, more than once if he were being honest with himself. He'd desired Kenneth. No. "No," he said aloud. "You did something to me." As frightening as the idea of being raped was, it was less frightening than the alternative. "You gave me something."

"Gave you what?"

"You drugged me, you put something in my drink. Roofies, Liquid E, something you cooked up yourself, I don't know. But you gave it to me and then you—"

"And then I what?"

"And then… you raped me." He shook so badly he could hardly hold the phone. There was silence on the other end. The only sound on the line was his breathing. Suddenly, he was in the locker room after school, clothes soaked, blood rushing from his head. He felt dizzy.

When Kenneth responded, Brian could hear the pain in his voice despite the fact that he spoke barely above a whisper. "I would never hurt you. Never. I love you. I would have gone my entire life without ever," and here his voice cracked a little, "touching you."

Brian closed his eyes and the locker room vanished. Kenneth had told him the truth. Always. As he'd said to Justin, the man had never lied to him. "Kenneth—"

"But that you could even think I'd do something like that proves to me… that you don't feel anything for me. You don't even know me." He paused. "You were right." Deep breath. "We should end things between us."

"Kenneth, wait—"

"After the Afibrinase campaign is in place, Hyperion will find a new advertising firm. I think that's best." Harris paused again, the words difficult to say. "I hope you have a good life." Hung up.

He'd known. He'd known all along that he hadn't been drugged, had known that he'd gone to Kenneth because it was what he'd wanted. The drinking had only given him the courage to do what he'd always wanted to do. That he couldn't remember only meant that the guilt had been too great. He'd punished himself by forgetting. Only a coward after all. The phone began to complain so he switched it off and placed it back on the coffee table.

Not only had he lost a business associate, he'd lost a friend. Because of his weakness. Because he couldn't own up to his actions. Because he'd rather pretend that he was something he wasn't: virtuous, innocent. Christ… Hearing Justin's key in the lock, he cut off the television and rushed outside to sit at the bottom of the stairs in the courtyard, crying in the darkness, the sound muffled by his hand. 

 

An emergency partners' meeting had been called for that morning. Kenneth Harris had contacted the firm at the opening of business to inform them of his decision to move Hyperion's account at the end of the quarter. Despite every attempt by the partners to ascertain why he felt a move was necessary and what steps needed to be taken in order to retain his business, Kenneth had been most adamant regarding his decision and, in the end, the firm had to acquiesce. So the partners' meeting wasn’t a strategizing session but rather a tribunal formed to assign blame and mete out suitable punishment.

As per his role in the disintegration of relations between Harris and the firm, Brian sat meekly at the table, eyes meeting no one else's. He hadn't said ten words during the frantic conference call to Hyperion's CEO, not trusting himself to keep it together. Now, all attention focused on him and he wished he were anywhere but in his seat.

"So?" one of the partners asked. And waited as Brian didn't immediately respond.

"We're sitting here with egg on our goddamn faces, gentlemen," Jennings pointed out angrily. "One of our biggest accounts has just flown the coop and left us with nothing but a mess. And I, for one, want to know why."

Still Brian said nothing.

Finally Ryder addressed him by name. "You want to tell us what happened, Brian?"

"I did my job," he replied. "The team and I came up with the best concepts possible for Hyperion." As long as he kept it on a professional level, he had a chance of walking out of the meeting alive.

"Then why is he pulling his business?" Cassidy asked.

"You'd have to ask him that."

"We did and you heard what he said." Which had basically been nothing other than a declaration of intent.

"Then what do you want from me?"

"An explanation," replied Mason. "Hyperion is one of our biggest clients. You brought them on board, you handled them…"

"Which means I must have fucked up," Brian concluded. And he had. But he couldn’t tell them that. Not if he wanted to remain a partner in the firm.

"None of the rest of us had the opportunity," Cassidy countered.

Searle, who had remained quiet until now during the inquisition, said to the other partners, "I think Brian's work speaks for itself."

There was silence, then Ryder spoke. "He's right. Clients come and go for whatever reasons, logical or not. We can't control that. We can only make sure that we do the best work we possibly can."

But Mason wasn't through. "So how's it going to look when Hyperion leaves us right after the launch of a successful campaign? What's that going to say to potential clients?" he asked.

"It'll look bad," agreed Searle. "But it would look worse if the campaign failed." He fixed his gaze on Brian. "Which it won't, will it?"

Ryder answered, "Of course not. It's solid work. A-class."

Searle gathered his papers. "Then I suggest we immediately begin to formulate some strategies for minimizing the fallout from Hyperion's desertion."

"And is our newest partner going to be involved in that as well?" asked Jennings. "I seem to remember he's going on vacation next week."

Before Brian could answer, Searle replied, "He'll be back."

Having returned to his office, Brian took what felt like his first breath all morning. Listening to Kenneth on the speakerphone and not being able to talk to him, to say the things he needed to say, had been extremely difficult. And having to defend himself to the partners when there was no defense had proven impossible. If Searle and Ryder hadn't spoken on his behalf, he didn't know what he would have done. He couldn't have told them what had happened. Not after the Kip Thomas fiasco. Even Ryder would have voted to toss him out on his ass.

Still, the lie didn't sit well with him. Sitting at his desk, brooding, he heard a knock and then the door opened. He knew who it was.

Coming in and hovering around Brian's desk, Ryder asked, "You want to tell me what really happened?" He hadn't believed for one second that Brian had been surprised by Harris' move.

He owed him the truth. After all, Ryder had been his mentor when he first arrived at the firm, had shepherded him over the years, making certain he was given opportunity after opportunity to shine, overlooking indiscretions just as long as the work held up. Looking him in the eye, he said, "I slept with Kenneth Harris."

Ryder shook his head and started to leave.

"It's not like you think."

"How could you do something like that after what happened with Kip Thomas?" Despite the fact that Thomas had dropped the suit, the issue had come up again during Chris Hobbs' trial bringing with it more bad publicity for the firm. The partners had been livid and it was only Brian's work history and the attendant awards that had saved his job.

Feebly, Brian replied, "You don't understand."

"What I do understand is that I made a mistake. In thinking that you could be a responsible partner." He left, anger having garroted him into silence.

Cynthia appeared. "I'll hold your calls." Closed the door softly.

But he'd barely heard her. Ryder was right. He'd let down all of his partners. Especially Justin. He'd failed him in their personal life and now it seemed even his job was on unsteady ground. If they forced him out of the company, the lifestyle he and Justin now enjoyed would become a distant dream. No more house, no more trips abroad. If he couldn't be faithful to Justin and couldn't provide for him, then what good was he? That Justin could make his way in the world without him, he was certain. Without Brian to hurt him, to constantly disappoint him, Justin would flourish. He was the only thing keeping Justin mired in the muck. Without him, Justin might have a chance to thrive. Without him, there was an insurance policy that would pay the mortgage on the house if Justin chose to remain on Whitman Drive. Without him, there was the possibility that Justin might find someone who'd care for him, who'd love him the way he deserved.

Brian opened the drawer in his desk where he kept the sleeping pills Drew had prescribed for him. He'd brought them from home on the pretense that he wouldn’t succumb to depending on them if they were out of sight.

It took him several moments before he could even reach for the bottle. Most of that time was spent trying to subdue the voice inside his head telling him he was making a mistake; but he knew better. It'd only get worse.

 _I hurt myself today  
To see if I still feel   
I focus on the pain   
The only thing that's real_ 10

Best to go now. As he picked up the bottle, he shivered.

Outside the sun shone as it had all week. The weather had been perfect. Sunny but mild. They'd hoped that it would last through the next week while Gus vacationed with them. They'd wanted to teach him to swim.

Brian stood. He couldn't think about those things now, couldn't, not if he wanted to go through with it. Grasping the bottle tightly in his hand, he started for the door. The executive men's room was just down the hall. He could do it in there and Cynthia wouldn't have to find him in a puddle of his own vomit. Most importantly, the house would be preserved for Justin, he wouldn't ruin that for him.

As he crossed the floor he glanced up, out of habit, at the drawing Justin had given him for Christmas. Of him and Gus asleep on the sofa in the loft. He treasured that sketch, among other reasons, because neither the sofa nor the loft belonged to him anymore. He'd moved on, taking his memories with him. Taking his partner and his child with him to continue building upon a life that they had help create. A life he was now destroying.

"No," he whispered, teeth clenched. He was doing the right thing. Gus and Justin didn't need him. They had family and friends who'd be there for them, who'd love them, care for them. They would go on without him consistently undermining their growth.

He traced the lines of the sketch, eyes following the curve of his arm, wrapped around Gus' body the same way it wrapped around Justin's when he held him. The bow of his lips that Justin's tongue sometimes outlined as they kissed. Turning away, he tried to forget the past and ran right into the future. He and Justin celebrating their six month anniversary, seated beneath the wisteria tree, holding hands across the table. Gus learning to swim, froggy kicking in the pool. Running through the house with Leo. A tear slipped from beneath his eyelid but he made no attempt to wipe it away. There'd only be more. More tears, more images, more poltergeist come to haunt him, doggedly pursuing him towards life.

Standing by the drawing, he wept, dropping the bottle of pills on the carpeted floor. Sounded like maracas. Or rattling bones. He sat on the sofa beneath the drawing when his legs began to feel weak. Cried until the desire to die had left him. Cried until the need to live filled him, strengthened him, gave him purpose. And after he finished crying, he wiped his face and slipped the sleeping pills into his briefcase to take home.

That afternoon he composed an email.

_"Kenneth,_

_"I'm sorry for what I said. I was wrong. I know that you would never deliberately hurt me. Only you have hurt me. Not physically. But you loved me when the last thing I wanted was to be loved by you. To have to think about you. To fall in love with you. I won't ever say it but this once. I do love you. But I can't have you. I made a promise to Justin that I intend to keep. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't have any choice. I'm bound to him in a way I can't explain. And it has nothing to do with exchanging rings or vows and everything to do with something that I feel in my bones. I don't want to hurt you but I need you to understand. If I had never met him, you and I would never have met. I would never have been the kind of man you could love. I would never have even thought of loving you. It's all so completely fucked up. But it'll pass, the way we feel right now. The pain will go away and we'll move on. I'll always love you, same as I'll always love Cam. But I can live without you. I can't live without Justin. I can't even die without him. It scares me sometimes, how much I need him but I know that he'll always be there for me so I don't ever have to be afraid. Not even of myself and the stupid things I do. Like hurting a friend. I'm sorry._

_"Brian."_

His finger hovered over the mouse and with one gesture, he erased the letter. 

 

Brian must have come in the back way because Justin didn't see him until he was walking towards the pergola. Meeting him at the door, Justin studied him for a moment. "You okay?"

"I was just thinking we need to get someone out here to look at the pool."

"I called, remember? He's coming Saturday."

"Yeah." Scratched his head. "Guess I forgot."

"I wonder if he'll be hot," joked Justin.

"Just like a fucking porno flick," laughed Brian.

A sudden smile lit up Justin's face. "It's been a long time since that's happened."

"Mmm," Brian uttered noncommittally.

"I missed hearing you laugh," he confessed shyly. His smile grew brighter as Brian slipped his arm around his shoulders. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

For the first time in almost two weeks they sat together at the table without any awkwardness. They talked quietly together and when they fell silent, it was a silence born of familiarity, of knowing how the pauses fit into the rhythm of their lives.

As they got ready for bed, Brian told Justin what had happened with Hyperion, told him that things might change as a result of the biotech company parting with the firm. "We might lose everything," he warned, wanting Justin to be prepared for the worst.

After a pause, Justin replied, "Not everything. Not anything that's really important."

Wordlessly, Brian agreed.

Cupping Brian's face in his hands, Justin whispered, "Kiss me." Brian's mouth brushed against his in a gentle kiss. "Kiss me," he murmured and again Brian did so, softly. "Kiss me," he begged and Brian smothered him in kisses that silenced the flow of words momentarily. "I missed you," he confessed and Brian kissed him once more, then held him tightly to his chest.

"I love you," he said as he pressed his face against Justin's hair.

That night they lay entwined in bed, content just to hold one another, taking the first tentative steps towards being in sync once more. Finally, after two weeks of uncertainty, Justin was able to shut his eyes and take his rest. After his young partner had gone under, Brian stayed awake for a while watching him sleep. It was one of his guilty pleasures, looking at Justin as he was drawn into a dream. He knew, from experience, that Justin did the same thing, studied him as he snored softly, ignorant of his audience; and he wondered if Kenneth had watched him toss about in a strange bed, instinctively missing his husband's warmth?

Afraid that somehow his thoughts might penetrate Justin's dreams, he turned away from him. Leo, who had been perched on the top of the toy chest, padded over bed and bodies to reach Brian's side. Settled down near the edge of the mattress and laid back against him. Brian absentmindedly stroked him, the kitten purring in contentment.

 _I should have sent that email to him,_ he thought. _I should have tried to explain_. He shivered, momentarily chilled. _I should have told him._ Should have told him everything. But how could he have? To have written anything would have encouraged Kenneth, regardless of the missive's actual message which was, _You can't have me. Forget about me._

Brian inhaled deeply and a tear rolled down the side of his nose. _Forget about him._

As she had days before, Cynthia met him at the door.

"What?" he asked, a trace of his old irritable self present in his voice.

"You'll never guess," she began but she didn't have a chance to finish as Marty came into the outer office from the hallway.

"Brian."

He continued on into his office with Ryder behind him. Put down his stuff. Change was in the wind. Had to be good or else Cynthia wouldn't have been that excited. What had Mel said about him? That he was made of Teflon? _"Shit just won't stick to you,"_ she'd said. He'd survived yet again. "Yep?"

"Got a call from Hyperion. Seems they've decided to stay with the firm."

Played it cool. "Say why?"

"No. But there are going to be some changes."

Brian sat. He could guess what they'd be.

"From now on, I'm going to serve as liaison to Hyperion. The VP in charge of sales will be our main contact within the company."

It was as he'd expected. "Fine."

"It goes without saying that I hope you're not planning to continue seeing Harris."

"I wasn't seeing him. It was one time and it was a mistake."

Marty paused before speaking again. "I've decided not to tell the other partners about your latest indiscretion. Don't make me regret that decision." Reprimand delivered, he left.

There was nothing Brian could say. He deserved every lash he got and then some. Posing as a lamb, he waited for Cynthia to come in with a cup of coffee and his schedule. But he couldn't maintain the deception and he grinned, showing the tips of his teeth and his true nature. Time to start kicking some asses again. Fuck Hyperion. There were plenty of other companies in the world needing a world-class advertiser and he just happened to be available.

Cynthia raised a brow at the expression on his face. "Uh-oh, the sheep better hold on tight to their coats. Somebody's about to get fleeced." 

 

Mel let the curtain drop. "They're here, Gus," she told the little boy who came running from the kitchen where he'd been 'helping' Lindsay. Even though he was spending the next week with Brian and Justin and they were picking him up before dinnertime, he'd been hoping to get some of the pasta Lindz was fixing. He loved spaghetti. In fact, Mel thought, there was very little in the way of food that he didn't love. Maybe Brian and Justin would stay for dinner. Of course, she was hoping they'd take Gus and go so she and Lindsay could have a romantic supper for two.

As soon as Brian opened the door, Gus flew to him and he picked the little boy up and hugged him. Gave him a big kiss. "I'd say he missed us," he said to Justin.

"Definitely. Hey, Gus."

The toddler kissed his other daddy. "Where Leo?"

"Leo's at home. You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"His bag is still upstairs," Mel said, so Brian and Gus went to get it. After they'd gone up, she said, "That's a one eighty from last week."

As Lindsay escaped from the kitchen, he explained. "He came home yesterday and, I don't know, something had changed. Hyperion had decided to drop the firm and you would have thought he'd be upset, and he was, but he also seemed… at peace with it. Like he'd finally decided to let go of Kenneth."

"That's fucked about Hyperion though," said Mel. "After all Brian did for them."

"Well, they must have thought so too because they've changed their minds. They want to stay with the firm."

"He talk to Kenneth?" asked Lindsay.

"He says he didn't. Ryder's taking over the account. And Kenneth is dropping out of the picture too."

"It's probably for the best. He looks good, better than he has in a long time."

Justin nodded. "Now we just have to get through the next six months."

The testing. "You worried?" Mel asked.

"Kenneth wouldn't have risked Brian's life. He loves him." He paused. "And Brian loves him. That's what makes it so hard."

"But he loves you more," she assured him. "The one good thing I can say about that asshole is that he loves you. More than anything."

Before he could reply, Brian came bounding down the stairs with Gus' suitcase in hand. "Let's roll."

"Less roll," said Gus a.k.a. Mini Me, proudly carrying his SpongeBob backpack. 

 

First they had to put away a week's worth of summer clothes for Gus and then they started on dinner. They'd been tempted to stop somewhere and pick up something but Gus wanted spaghetti and it wouldn't take long to fix that, especially since they had sauce already prepared and frozen for the evenings when they didn't feel like take-out or cooking from scratch.

As Justin boiled the pasta and heated the sauce, Brian put together a pretty basic salad while Gus and Leo played at their feet, trying their best to precipitate a domestic accident. Which got Brian to thinking about his recent troubles and thoughts about suicide. Thoughts about their future should anything happen to him. "You know," he said, "we never did contact the lawyer about the trust, or drafting our wills, or setting up power of attorney for both of us."

Not a subject he was comfortable discussing, Justin replied, "We said we'd wait until things settled down."

"Well, they're settled. As much as they probably ever will be," he added with a little snort. "So we should think about doing it. Soon. Gus." The little boy had bumped into him as he scrambled away from Leo's dancing paw. Hearing the warning in his daddy's voice, Gus gave him some room.

Joking, Justin asked, "You thinking about dying on me?"

Although it had cut a little too close to home, Brian managed to reply lightly, "With the way you drive the Cherokee, I wouldn't be too cocky if I were you."

"My driving?" asked Justin, eyes wide open. "I bet the skid marks from the Jeep are still outside of St. James."

"Historic artifacts," bragged Brian. "But, seriously, we need to make sure everything's in place."

"Brian—"

"If something happened to me," and he paused, thinking about Thursday and the struggle he'd gone through, "I want to make sure you're taken care of. There's a life insurance policy that I took out a couple years ago, you're the beneficiary. It should be enough to pay the—"

"Can't we do this later?"

"You wanna end up like those women whose husbands die and they don't even know how much money they have in the bank or where the insurance policies are or anything?"

He hated hearing those stories. "No."

"Then we need to talk."

Brian was right. He hadn't known anything about the insurance policy and he had no idea how much money was in their joint account. He hadn't used it since Brian set it up, preferring to stick with his substantially smaller personal checking account funded by his paychecks from the diner. "You'll make the appointment with the lawyer?"

"Yeah. But," he said with a smile, "it can probably wait until our vacation's over." Justin returned his smile. "Watch out," Brian said, "the cat's behind you." Leo had returned and was about two seconds away from tripping Justin down. "Who needs your bad driving when we've got Gus and Leo to keep us at death's door?"

Sticking out his tongue, Justin said, "You'll want some later."

"Count on it." 

 

While Gus sat on a pillow at the coffee table and colored, Brian and Justin watched Sleepy Hollow on DVD.

"Fuck, he's beautiful," Justin said in awe of Johnny Depp. "We definitely have to go see Pirates of the Caribbean when it comes out." Especially since it was a Disney picture. They'd probably have to take Gus although they'd been spared Finding Nemo. The Munchers had done movie duty on that one. Actually, he wouldn't have minded seeing it since the film was animated. Maybe he'd go see it anyway, now that all the kids had probably exhausted their parents' patience and the showings would be virtually kid-free. Maybe a miracle would occur and Brian would go with him.

"Should I be jealous?" Brian asked, derailing his train of thought.

"He reminds me of you." To Brian's raised brow, he said, "He has kind of an androgynous quality to him."

"And I do too?" he asked, amused.

"Sorta. You're not afraid of being beautiful."

"Gotta work with what you have," Brian boasted with a sensual roll of his bare shoulders. Now that it was summer he lived in his tank tops. Something Justin appreciated greatly.

Still he ordered him to, "Stop flirting."

Brian pursed his lips. Crooked his finger.

Shaking his head, Justin climbed onto his lap.

"Daddy, look." Gus raised his book for Brian to look at unaware that his daddy was busy at the moment.

Gazing at Justin, Brian replied, "Perfect." 

 

The sound of really bad polka music guided him to the family room where Gus danced in front of the television while four grown men dressed in primary colors sang some inane song that he could only imagine was designed to drive sane people stark raving mad. Leo was nowhere in sight. Good taste.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked Justin who came out of the kitchen with two cups of coffee in hand. "Thanks, Baby. What is that?"

"The Wiggles," he replied.

"The Wiggles!" shouted Gus and he began to sing along although the words made no sense to either adult.

"Of course. The Wiggles." As if that explained anything. Pressing his fingers to his forehead, he retreated to the kitchen where the decibel level was reduced by a mere fraction. "Maybe I'll go sit outside," he told Justin and made his way to the door. Sat out on the steps and smoked, having snagged a pack of cigarettes from the cabinet in the kitchen. With the mosaic table out in the courtyard, they didn't have anything for the back yard or he would have gone out there. The pool guy was coming this morning, maybe they would go out this afternoon and find something for the patio. At least a table and some chairs, maybe a chaise lounge. With the pool open for business their friends would want to come over and party. It'd be good to see the guys and not have to think about… things. He sipped his coffee and tried to ignore the pain in his chest. It would go away. In time. 

 

"Hi, I'm Danny Sommers. The pool guy," he said, holding out his hand, which was attached to a very strong and very tanned forearm.

Brian, out of habit, gave him the once-over. Blond. Blue eyes. Totally hot. He grinned and took his hand. "Brian Kinney. The homeowner." Gestured with his head towards Justin. "Justin Taylor-Kinney—"

"The homeowner's husband," the young artist said, wanting to make sure Danny understood just how things were around the house.

"Cool. So where's the pool?"

They showed him to the back and then went inside while he worked. Justin burst out laughing as soon as they were alone. Relatively speaking, as Gus was glued to the window watching Danny work. He'd wanted to go outside but his daddies wouldn't let him, knowing he'd probably get in the way. "Do you think that's his real name?"

"Who knows?" Brian laughed. "Shit. I've actually seen Danny Sommers play a pool guy."

"Ted?"

"Ted." Ted of the voluminous porn collection. They'd had pizza and watched porno flicks one night, getting totally hammered in the process. He'd thought that it'd be an excuse for one of the guys to put the moves on him but none of them had. Smarter than they'd looked. They'd all known what a piece of work he was. The tricks hadn't had a clue. Not even Justin.

"Can you imagine…?" Justin began, then grinned. "We could invite him in for a glass of iced tea…"

Brian smirked. "Get him out of those hot, sweaty clothes…"

"Take a group shower…"

"Group fuck. Get him all hot and sweaty…"

"I bet he's got at least a nine-inch cock."

"Ten."

Excited by the prospect, Justin embraced Brian and raised his face. They kissed for a while and, discreetly, they hoped, rubbed against one another as Gus continued to watch Danny fiddle with the pool. 

"If we buy something today, how long will it take for it to be delivered?" Brian asked the salesman.

"A week at the most."

"Guaranteed?"

"You have my word."

"Not to be rude," Brian said, "but I'd rather have it in print."

Before the flustered salesman could recover his composer, Justin tugged on Brian's arm and they went off to see what they could find. Gus was already having a ball. At last, furniture he couldn’t hurt. His daddies hadn't even warned him not to touch anything.

"What about something iron or aluminum?" Justin suggested.

"Long as there's a cushion. I can't sit on anything hard."

"Oh really?"

"Except your cock," he whispered.

Justin laughed then pointed to a set. "I like this." Scanned the description. "Bentana. Means window in Spanish. Has a 50's retro art deco look. What do you think?"

"Definitely a possibility." He liked the curved arms and slanted back. Simple yet stylish. "Let's keep looking. Maybe we'll see something else we like."

But they didn't. Not right away. Everything was either too plain in Justin's opinion or too frilly in his. They glanced at the wicker stuff but none of it really appealed to them and the teak wood furniture seemed too heavy. Just as they were about to give up, they came upon a different manufacturer's line and fell in love with a set.

"Renaissance," read Brian. He loved it. Clean lines, tasteful fabric, cushions on the back and bottom, perfect.

Justin liked the knotted emblem that decorated the chairs, giving it a needed touch of decoration. He especially liked the bronzed finish. "Fits. Italian villa, Renaissance furniture. Works for me."

"Like this finish?"

"Yeah. What about the fabric?" The display model was done in natural-colored fabric, almost white.

"Maybe something a little darker."

Flipping through the samples, Justin asked, "Canvas or Antique Beige?" since he knew Brian was not about to put on something brightly colored or printed although he personally liked the cognac Nobility fabric that reminded him of the damask chenille fabric on their dining chairs.

"Canvas," said Brian, conforming to Justin's expectations. "I like the Nobility but it's too dark for the outside," he added with a wry grin. He knew how his Baby's mind worked.

"Can we get a couple of the chaise lounges too?" he asked meekly, knowing that the furniture wouldn't be cheap and they had just finished redecorating two rooms that had cost a pretty penny.

"Yeah, we can get a couple of chaise lounges," said Brian smiling. "How about a double one?"

"So we can cuddle," Justin suggested.

"Exactamundo." They'd watched _Demolition Man_ one night not too long ago and Brian had been quite taken with Wesley Snipe's character, Simon Phoenix.

In the end they bought the hundred and seventeen inch table, eight chairs, the double chaise lounge, and two single chaise lounges figuring if they had any more guests than they had chairs for at the table, the extra people could sit around the pool. Gus already loved the lounge and they had to practically coax him from it with the promise of ice cream when it was time to go. 

 

Justin held Gus up to the display case. "What kind do you want, Gus?" The little boy's eyes were two hazel saucers. With thirty-two flavors and no reading skills, it was a tough decision. Figuring he needed to help him out a bit, Justin gave him some choices. "How about Vanilla?" Gus shook his head. "Chocolate?" Again he shook his head. "Rocky Road?" Gus looked confused. "It's got chocolate ice cream and marshmallows—"

"Marshmallows!" he shouted. He loved marshmallows. Especially when Nana put them in his hot chocolate.

"It's also got nuts," Brian warned. Which would be easy for Gus to swallow and choke on.

"Sorry."

"How about Oreo Cookies 'n' Cream, Gus?" Brian asked the toddler. "You like Oreo cookies don't you?"

He nodded. Oreo cookies were good. Sometimes Mama gave him cookies and milk and let him dunk his cookies in the milk and make a mess but it was fun. "Yeah!" he yelled, getting more and more excited.

"Yippee," groaned Brian. "Like he's not hyped up enough." In the end they got Gus the Oreo Cookies 'n' Cream and Justin got some of the Rocky Road and gave Gus a few of the marshmallows. After some coaxing, Brian ordered Raspberry sherbet that was almost the exact shade of his lips.

Figuring they'd spare the upholstery in the Cherokee, they ate their treats in the mall even though Brian's teeth were on edge with all of the people crowding in around them. The only time he liked being in a crowd was when he was on drugs and dancing or fucking. Gus, on the other hand, loved being in the food court. He waved at the little kids who passed by and inhaled all of the delicious smells coming from the different fast food joints. Especially McDonald's since he hardly ever got food from there. Tugging on Brian's arm, he said, "Daddy. I want French fries."

"Not now. Finish eating your ice cream."

"No!" he pouted and started to put the cone down but Brian gave him his patented 'I don't think so' look and he changed his mind and held onto it. But he still pouted and refused to finish his cone.

"Then I'll take it and put it in the trash," Brian threatened and he reached for the ice cream.

Gus drew back his hand, refusing to surrender the cone.

"You've got ten seconds to start eating that or I'm taking it away," he warned.

"Brian…" Justin realized that Brian was probably right but he also realized that Gus was two-years-old and his reasoning skills were highly underdeveloped.

"What?"

"Gus, you can't have any French fries right now because we're eating at home later. I'll make you some French fries when we go home and eat. Okay?" Gus nodded. "Don't you want your ice cream anymore?" The tot didn't respond. "Can I have some?" Gus held it up to him and Justin took a lick. "Mmm, that's so good. Can I have some more?" Gus giggled and pulled it away. Began to lick it himself.

Saying nothing, Brian leaned over and kissed Justin's cheek. The younger man blushed as they'd garnered the attention of the shoppers around them but he smiled and worked on dousing the warmth in his cheeks with the rest of his Rocky Road. 

 

Brian ran a tub of cool water and plunked Gus down in it. Tonight they began preparing him to eventually get in the pool. Gus was used to having water in his face from showering with them but he didn't know anything about moving around in the water, breathing underwater, or floating. Justin had gotten a book on teaching children to swim from Borders and they figured over the next few days they'd instruct him in the basics so that by the end of his visit, he could get in the pool and use the paddle board they'd bought him. Most importantly, they both agreed that the goal was for him to feel relaxed in the pool and to learn how to float. Since the pool was five feet deep and probably a little intimidating for a two-year-old, they agreed that the best thing to do was to start in the bathtub. Which wasn't a problem as his tub was fairly large. So they'd put on his swim trunks—the plain ones, not the suit with the floatation devices already built in that came with a matching hat which Brian loathed—and run the tub full of water. After Brian lifted Gus into the water, Justin told him what they were going to do.

"Okay, Gus, I want you to listen to us very carefully, cause this is really important. Okay?"

" 'kay."

"Remember how I told you that we would go swimming in the pool once it got hot enough?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's hot enough now."

"Yea!!"

"But, first, you have to learn how to move around in the water and how to float. Okay?" He nodded.

Over the next half hour they got him to play choo-choo train, walking around in a circle to get used to moving through water; and they played the "People in the Water" Justin singing a song as they got him to do various movements.

_"The fish in the water go up and down,/ Up and down, up and down/ The fish in the water go up and down/ All through the water."_

They went through moving back and forth, and left and right, paddling, and splashing. Then Justin hit upon the novel idea of singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" song while Gus touched all the parts of his body named in the song. The song Brian could have done without but it turned out to be a brilliant ploy as it got Gus used to putting his head in the water as he tried to touch his toes.

Which led to a game of Jack-in-the-Box in which he bobbed up and down in the water, holding his breath and going under and popping back up again while they clapped and encouraged him.

Finally, the last thing they went over was blowing bubbles under water. First they got him to put his mouth under water and blow bubbles, coming back up just as he ran out of breath, which scared him a little, and then, after he'd gotten good at that, they worked on him putting his entire head under water and blowing bubbles. They'd both noticed that he kept his eyes closed but they figured they'd work on that next time with his goggles.

At the end of the half hour, Brian got him out of the tub and hugged him. "Natural born swimmer," he boasted and Gus basked in the attention. That evening, while Justin cooked, Brian called Lindsay and Gus told her all about his adventures in swimming. He couldn't wait to get in the pool.

"So how did he do, Dad?" she asked Brian when Gus gave up the phone to go play with Leo.

"He did great. Wasn't scared of the water or anything. Course, it was just the bathtub. We'll see how he does in the pool."

"Already?"

"We'll be in there with him and we'll take it slow, Mom."

"You doing okay?" They hadn't talked for a while, not like they used to, not in a while. Not since his first trip to Birmingham.

"I'm fine," he answered although she could tell the question had colored his mood somewhat.

"Sure?"

"Lindsay, I'm fine. I just… I made a mistake and it's over now." Which wasn't the truth and they both knew it but it was an easy lie.

"Have you thought anymore about maybe having another child?"

"After what happened?"

"So we wait a year, that's not too long."

He tried not to think about the worst case scenario but he couldn't help it. "What if…"

"You're Brian Kinney. You always come out on top."

He glanced over at a noise, saw Justin setting the table. "Gotta go."

She knew when she was being put aside. "Call me?"

They'd talk. Eventually. Like they always did. "Later." 

 

The pool boy knocked on the door and waited. In a moment it opened. The man of the house had come to see who it was. He smiled. Not all of his house calls paid off. This one definitely would. He could already tell. The way the guy was checking him out. Hair, chest, basket. Oh yeah, he'd definitely score. What was there not to like? Blond hair, blue eyes, boyish chest, a nice package in contrast, and an ass that wouldn’t quit. He could feel the guy staring at it as he sashayed past.

"The pool's out back."

He waited for the owner to close the door and show him the way. Studied him from behind. Tall, wide shoulders, slender hips, and the outline of his cock had promised a good time to be had by all. He had a great chest too, which he could see perfectly as the guy had answered the door shirtless. The only thing he seemed to have on was a pair of cut-off sweats. Course, he only had on a white tank top and a pair of running shorts himself. Had to be comfortable in his line of work.

"There it is," the owner pointed out quite unnecessarily as he could plainly see the object of his quest.

"Perfect," he said and he cupped the guy's crotch. Definitely wouldn't be disappointed.

"I thought you were here to work on the pool, check the hoses..."

"I’m more interested in yours." He squeezed the owner's package. "Feels like it's in good shape."

For a moment neither said anything as they studied one another from beneath half-lowered eyelids. Then:

"Brian," the owner said, introducing himself.

"Justin," he whispered with a kiss and he eased Brian's sweats over his hips. They dropped to the stone patio soundlessly. For the next ten minutes they kissed by the pool, the tank top and running shorts joining the sweats. He loved the feel of the man's hands on his bare ass, squeezing his cheeks as they kissed, tongues venturing into foreign yet familiar mouths. His cock began to swell, to brush against Brian's thigh, and he reached for the guy's dick, stroking it until it poked his belly.

They moved to the pool, taking it slowly, step-by-step immersing themselves in the water, still kissing, his hand still wrapped around Brian's cock, feeling it thicken beneath his fingers. Once in the pool, Brian moved away from him and ducked beneath the water, shaking his head as he broke the surface. Beautiful. His muscles glistened in the moonlight. Justin leaned back against the edge of the pool, elbows over the top, and parted his legs. Kicked a few times lazily. Brian moved between his thighs and grabbed him. They kissed hungrily, Brian's hands roaming his body, sliding over his shoulders and down his sides, along his legs.

Breaking off the kiss, Brian licked down his torso, tongue encircling his nipples, dipping in his navel. He cupped Justin's ass and lifted his hips from the water, then went foraging. His tongue licked the length of Justin's cock, tasting chlorine but it didn't dissuade him from continuing. He bobbed over the young man's dick, taking the head into his mouth and sucking it softly before proceeding down the shaft. Justin's head lolled back on his neck and he moaned out loud, unable to keep silent.

Brian immediately released him. "Shh. I don't want the neighbors to hear," and he went back to work, Justin having to bite his lip to stay quiet. Finally Justin raised Brian's head and they returned to kissing.

They slipped from the water and made a pallet of their clothes, not enough padding to really be comfortable but enough surface area to keep them off the patio stone. Justin lay back on the makeshift nest, his erection straining over his abdomen. Joining him, his own penis stiff, Brian stretched out over him, Justin wrapping his legs about his waist. Lips swollen, they continued to ply them with kisses. Brian's muscles flexed and Justin nearly purred, running his hands up and down his back, over his shoulders, and along his arms. He was rock solid.

Raising up and moving down his body, Brian began to kiss Justin's chest. He traveled from one shoulder to the other, kissing along his collar bone. There were traces of kisses all around Justin's nipples, all along his ribcage. Brian licked down the center of his body, kneeling on the hard stone as he came to Justin's cock. Justin took his dick by the base and held it up. The head was firm and dark. Brian kissed the tip. Kissed it again. Kissed around the edges of the glans. A bead of precum appeared. He opened his mouth around the head without touching it and flicked his tongue over the apex. The bead disappeared. Closing his mouth, he fed on Justin's cockhead until he was writhing beneath him, a cry threatening to erupt from his lips at any moment.

Brian let go and they exchanged places, he lying supine on the pallet, Justin crouched above him. He wrapped an arm about the younger man and pulled him down so that they were touching all along their bodies. Cocks hard and wet, they pumped against one another as they kissed. He probed between Justin's cheeks and massaged his knotted hole. Justin flung back his head and began panting. Rubbing hard against Brian. He wanted to come so badly. Giving Brian a final kiss, he pulled free and knelt over his chest. Tugged on his cock. Brian felt him up as he masturbated. God, his nipples were so sensitive and Brian kept rubbing his thumbs over them, kept pinching them. He leaned over, supporting himself on one hand, and jerked on his cock with the other. His dick was close enough now for Brian to suck him and he did, hands holding onto his slender thighs. Justin convulsed and came, dick sliding over Brian's lips, cum flying from the tip. When he was through, he rolled over onto his back, palm around his balls. Brian's cheeks were streaked with jizz.

Brian got back into the pool to wash his face and Justin joined him, sitting on the lowest step so that his head was level with Brian's crotch. Taking hold of his dick, he began to blow him, gradually increasing the pressure with which he sucked him until Brian trembled above him.

"I'm gonna come," he warned Justin as he pulled his cock from his mouth.

"I like getting wet," was the reply.

Brian towered over him, jacking his meat. Precum dripped from his dick. His lips parted and he jerked.

Justin closed his eyes as he was splattered with cum. Face, chest, and neck. Smiling, he rubbed it into his skin. Eyes still closed, he felt Brian move in the water, felt his hands on his body, drawing him near as they kissed. He remained where he was as Brian washed him, a palm full of water at a time. Then, in a husky voice, he asked, "Are you satisfied with the quality of my services?"

Kissing him soundly, Brian replied, "Very." 

 

As Brian entered the house, Deb looked around from her post at the sink. "Where's the rest of the Kinney clan?"

"Shopping. As usual," he replied, going to perch on the chair by Mikey.

"So why aren't you?" he asked. "After all, it is your second favorite activity."

Brian shrugged. "Not in the mood."

Taking two sodas from the fridge, Debbie set them on the kitchen table before headed downstairs, saying, "I've gotta finish the laundry."

Michael laughed. "Subtle she's not."

It could have been a day out of their past. The two of them sitting on Debbie's rickety picnic table and bench sipping ginger ale. Except that they were no longer seventeen and Brian was married with a two-year-old son.

"So," began Michael, "it's a nice day, huh?"

Brian snickered. "Guess subtlety's not your strong suit either." He took a sip of ginger ale and frowned. Not one of his favorites.

Cutting to the chase, Michael asked, "What happened?"

"I don't fuckin' know, Mikey. I don't remember shit," he confessed. "I woke up in his bed and… we'd fucked. That's all I know." Squinting, he slipped on his sunglasses. Michael watched as a tear rolled from beneath the edge of them.

"Brian…" He touched his arm. "It's okay."

"No," he answered, "it's not."

Michael could feel him trembling next to him and he tightened his grip on his arm. "You love him, don't you?" And then he answered his own question. "Of course, you do." They'd known each other most of their lives and the one thing he knew about Brian was that he was, despite all of his other failings, a moral person. He'd given his word to Justin that he would be faithful and the only way he would have broken his word for anyone else was if he'd loved them.

"Not enough," Brian said softly.

"Just enough to make you fuckin' miserable," Michael added and he embraced his friend and held him as he shook, then removed his sunglasses and gently wiped away his tears as he'd done before. After Cam had broken Brian's heart.

It'd taken a long time for Brian to get over Cam and he'd only done it after locking away his feelings and becoming the Brian Kinney everyone had envied and lusted after: the ultimate party boy, the undisputed King of the Backroom. Only Michael had known the real reason: that he'd been afraid to let anyone that close again, close enough to hurt him. Until Justin had come along, not knowing a damn thing except that he wanted Brian. Youth and ignorance on his side giving him the strength to walk the gauntlet of Brian's many tests until, finally, he'd gotten what he'd wanted. And then Kenneth had entered the picture, threatening to screw everything to Hell.

"It's over now, Brian," Michael told him. "Forget about him and be happy."

"How?"

"I'm sure the Boy Wonder has a few ideas," he said, pushing him with his shoulder. Brian pushed back. Certain the crisis was over, Michael was just about to suggest that they hit Woody's for a real drink when Brian spoke again.

"I wanted him so much."

"That's no crime."

In a whisper, he said, "I still do."

"You won't always," Michael assured him.

"I hope;" and he put on his sunglasses again.

For a while, after Brian had gone, Michael sat on the bench outside worrying. That Brian would once again shut himself off from his feelings, that he would retreat into a place deep inside him where he could hide his emotions, camouflage his vulnerability with attitude, coldness, and sexual promiscuity. Although he'd never stopped loving Brian, he sometimes hadn't liked the person he'd become after Cam left him. But they were best friends, which meant that no matter how much he'd disliked some of the things Brian had done, he'd always supported him, all the while trying to nudge him towards being human again.

Until Justin.

Michael smiled softly. He had to believe that Justin would never give up on Brian, that no matter how difficult times got, he'd always be there to lend Brian the strength he needed. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would have been like if he and Brian would have gotten together. Maybe they would have crashed and burned like Brian and Cam and their friendship would have long since turned to ashes. That possibility, and the feeling that his life would have been immeasurably emptier without his best friend, had always kept him from pursuing a sexual relationship with Brian. Until Justin, he'd never believed that any other man would have a place in Brian's life and he'd been content with his lot. It'd taken a long time before he was able to admit to himself, or anyone else, that Justin had succeeded where all else had failed: he'd found the key to Brian's secret place, found the parts of him he'd locked way, and freed him to love again. 

 

"All right, Gus, take a deep breath." He did. "Now put your head under the water and blow it out." Brian watched as the little boy put his head beneath the water and blew out. This time he'd put on his goggles so he could see but he still had his eyes closed. When Gus came back up for air, Brian told him, "Keep your eyes open the next time."

"No." Shook his head.

"It's okay. You've got your goggles on. Try it." Gus took a deep breath and put his head under the water and blew his bubbles. Brian watched him closely. He had his eyes open. When Gus came up, he clapped for him. "Amazing." Gus hopped up and down in the tub. "Now, I want you to hold onto the side of the tub." Gus held onto the edge. "Now, kick your legs." The little boy looked confused.

"He doesn’t know how to float, Brian." Justin watched from the other side.

With one hand around his arm and the other beneath his chest, Brian held him up so that his feet floated from the bottom of the tub. "Okay, kick." Gus kicked weakly. "Harder." He giggled and kicked up a storm, so much so that water splashed over the edge. "Good boy." Gus continued to kick until Brian deemed it enough and told him to stop. "You think you're ready to go into the pool?

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah!"

"Come on." He lifted him from the water and changed him into his swimsuit. It was blue with green frogs on it and there was a matching hat. "Where does she find these things?" Brian groused. Justin grinned and popped him on the butt. "Ow!"

"Let's go." He grabbed Gus' kickboard.

Before they got into the pool, Brian went over the rules. "You are never to get into the pool without me or Daddy Justin, got that?" Gus nodded, eyes grave. He knew when Daddy was serious. "And no running or playing around the pool. It's slippery and you might fall in. Understand?" Again, he nodded. "Last rule is no eating in the pool. Okay?"

"Okay."

Because it was easy for little kids to get dehydrated, Justin had put some bottled water in a cooler and had it near the pool. There was fruit in there as well. All the books said that it was okay to eat fruit and then go swimming as fruit was easy to digest. It was fatty foods that were hard to digest that gave people problems.

They'd also gotten special towels just for the pool. Big, thirsty towels in bright colors that Gus immediately took to. He couldn't wait to wrap up in it. But before that, he wanted to get in the pool.

Brian got in first, climbing slowly down the steps to set an example for Gus. Once he was in the water, he waited at the side. "Sit down at the edge," he told Gus and the toddler did. Then Brian raised him up and held him in his arms. Gus shivered. "Cold?" He nodded. "It'll warm up in a minute."

While Gus adjusted to the water, Justin climbed in with his kickboard. Without calling attention to his actions, he began to scoop water in his hand and pour it down Gus' back. At first he wriggled, trying to get away from the cold water but then he began to giggle as he got used to the feeling. Within a few minutes he was raring to get in the water.

"You ready?" Brian asked and he lowered him into the water but Gus began to complain. Although he'd been excited about getting in the pool, he suddenly realized that the water was much deeper than the water in his tub and he was a little afraid. Drawing him up again, Brian said, "I won't let you go, I promise. I'll always be there. Daddy Justin too. So you don’t ever have to be scared. Okay?" Brian kissed him and felt Gus' hand on his face. It made him feel incredibly strong that Gus trusted him with his life, whether he knew it or not. At that moment, with his son in his arms and his partner by his side, he felt more alive than he had in a long time. He'd survived. He was still alive. He kissed Gus again, savoring the feel of his soft cheek. "Ready?"

"I readee, I readee," he chanted just like SpongeBob.

"Then let me see you kick," and he held on while Gus stretched out and kicked his legs, supported by the water's buoyancy and his daddy's strong arms.

"You're doing great, Gus," Justin told him. "Keep kicking."

And he did, the water bubbling around him as he kicked away. 

 

**Songs:**

Massive Attack, "Angel".   
The Crystal Method, "Busy Child".   
The Wiggles, "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes".   
The Children's Television Workshop, "Rubber Ducky".   
The Children's Television Workshop, "Capital I".   
Bjork, "All is Full of Love".   
Massive Attack, "Inertia Creeps".   
Portishead, "Glory Box".   
Isaac Hayes and David Porter, "When Something is Wrong with My Baby".   
Nine Inch Nails, "Hurt".


	2. Tuscan Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang celebrates the Fourth of July; and Brian and Justin take a trip to the country.

"How about painting a mural in the guest room?" Brian asked in response to Justin's complaint that he was at loose ends in terms of things to do during the summer. Artistically. He was well on his way to driving Brian crazy on the personal front however.

"Do we know what we're doing in there?" Justin replied, hoping to prompt Brian into revealing his plans.

But the man shrugged. "What do you want to—"

"Oh no," Justin interjected, "we're doing this together."

"I worked on the livingroom and dining room," Brian reminded him.

"And you did a good job, too." Justin nudged his husband. "So what do you think we should put on the wall?"

"Tuscany," he suggested after giving it some thought.

"Tuscany," repeated Justin in disbelief.

"We've got all those pictures from our trip. Pick something."

"I'm not that good," Justin argued.

"You are that good. Besides, it's not like it has to be a photographic reprint. You're an artist, be creative. Some hills, a few cypress trees, an olive grove…"

"Easy to say." Sounded like a lot of work and beyond his skills.

"Well," Brian told him, "you won't know until you get your bubble butt off the couch and try." He popped Justin on said butt as they were lying together on the bed watching television. Actually neither one had really been paying attention to whatever was on. Brian had been shuffling papers and Justin had been reading a biography of Paul Cadmus, George Platt Lynes, and Lincoln Kirstein. Frank's gift had sparked an interest in Cadmus and his life and Justin had found the biography at a used bookstore in town.

He'd asked his question of Brian originally in hopes that the man would agree to sit for a few drawings in the summer but Brian seemed bent on not posing for him, as the subject invariably brought up memories of Kenneth, whom he was endeavoring to forget.

In retaliation for Brian ragging him, Justin said, "This means getting out the photos from the trip and…" Brian groaned. "…going through them," Justin finished. Despite choosing photography as a hobby, Brian seemed to hate looking at photos. Justin told him so.

"Not all pictures, just vacation pictures. It's like watching Mikey's boring-assed slides from Paris."

"Except they're our pictures from our trip and you're a photographer."

"Doesn't make them any more interesting. And I'm an amateur."

"You," Justin said exasperatedly and pushed Brian with his foot, "are such a grouch."

In his defense, Brian explained, "I'm tired."

"Then put down your work and go to sleep." Justin snorted. Sometimes Brian could be incredibly dense. At that moment Leo jumped up on the bed, having returned from patrolling the house. "Even Leo knows it's time to call it a night."

Brian checked the clock on his nightstand. Almost midnight. He straightened his papers as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He'd put them away in his briefcase, take a leak, and collapse. Silently, he prayed that Justin wouldn't be in the mood to play cause he didn't think he had the energy for it. No, he knew for a fact that he didn't.

Luck was on his side or else Justin knew just how exhausted he was because the young artist did no more than kiss him goodnight, then switched off the light on his side of the bed and turned over to sleep. Now that they'd been married for a while, Justin no longer felt the need to hold onto him in the night as they slept but Brian kind of missed falling asleep with Justin's arm around him. He guessed everything changed. Then, just as he was about to close his eyes, he felt the bed shift, felt an arm snake around his waist, and Justin's hair brush against his skin. Brian smiled. Maybe not everything.

 

Brian had bolted from the house before Justin could unearth their photos and mementos from their travels in Italy. Justin didn't care. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, heated a danish, and carried both to the family room. Television on and turned to Cartoon Network, he ate breakfast at the coffee table by the sectional and began going through the box of stuff.

Out came their airline tickets from London to Rome and the tickets for the Leonardo express train that took them into the city. They had gondola tickets from Venice, bus tickets to Tivoli, train tickets to Florence, to Venice, and Milan.

Brochures from and pictures of all the places where they'd stayed. Each hotel had been unique and beautiful. That Brian had gone to such care still amazed Justin. In Rome their room had overlooked the Piazza Barberini; in Venice they'd had a balcony from which they could see the Bridge of Sighs; they'd stayed in a hotel in Florence just steps away from the Ponte Vecchio which stretched over the Arno.

There were admission tickets to the Vatican Museums, the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, the Uffizi, and the Florentine Gallerie dell'Accademia where Michaelangelo's David was housed as well as the Venetian Gallerie dell'Accademia which boasted works by Titan, Tintoretto, and Veronese. In addition to the admission tickets there were exhibition catalogues and museum books upstairs in the library that Brian had paid for without any fuss despite the cost. Just to see the smile on his lover's face as he'd eagerly devoured each page.

And photos. There were four photo boxes full of snapshots from their Italian holiday. The Colosseum, Palatine Hill, St. Peter's, the Castel Sant' Angelo, the Pantheon, Hadrian's Villa, the Tivoli Gardens, vineyards in Tuscany, the Pitti Palace, the Grand Canal and the Ponte di Rialto, the Basilica di San Marco, and the Zegna shop in Milan—Brian's personal favorite. Photos of them individually and a few of them together, when they'd been able to find other tourists willing to do them the honor of taking their picture. They'd picked up disposable cameras just for that reason, unwilling to part with Brian's expensive camera for any reason.

Finishing his coffee, Justin went through the pictures Brian had taken of the Tuscan countryside both from the train and also during their brief foray out of Florence into the surrounding towns. They'd both wished that they had more time to spend in Toscana, to visit Pisa, Chianti, and Siena and soak up the warmth of the region. More than anywhere else, it was this area which had prompted their plans to return to Italy someday. And he realized all over again that they'd duplicated the feel of the place in their home, the colors and furnishings echoing the rich palate and wonder of Tuscany.

Pulling himself out of his memories, he checked his watch: he had about a half an hour before he was supposed to be at work. Reluctantly, he put everything away and left the box by the couch. Italy would wait. 

 

Coming home to an empty house (except for Leo), he found the box of mementos and photos where Justin had left it. "Hmm," he grunted and slung his coat jacket over the back of the sofa with a warning to Leo, "Don't even think about it," as the kitten jumped onto the sectional. "Come here." Leo ambled over and sat next to him, purring as he was petted, getting cat hair on Brian's slacks. Couldn't win.

When Justin returned a while later, Brian was intently studying a couple of photographs which he handed over to his spouse as he claimed a space on the sectional. "Something like this," Brian told him. They were pictures he'd taken of a vineyard: pink, red-roofed buildings in the distance with cypress trees towering over them, grape vines in the foreground, a tree-filled hillside with a road snaking through it sloping from the buildings down to the staked vines.

"I think I could do something like this. Simplify it. Just do impressions maybe."   
"Impressions," smirked Brian. "Just think, you could start your own movement. You could call it… Impressionism," he said in mock awe. Then, "Oops, sorry, I think Monet beat you to it."

"Asshole. Just for that, you can help me."

He raised a brow. "Like I know shit about painting."

"You can help do the prep-work on the wall and you can wax it after I'm done with the fresco."

Brian frowned. "What about the smell?" He really had an aversion to the smell of paint. That much he hadn't exaggerated.

"Fine." Justin relented and let him off the hook. "But you owe me. Big time."

Taking his husband in his arms, Brian kissed him along the jaw. "Anything you want."

"Anything?" baited Justin.

"Within reason." He knew better than to offer Justin a blanket promise. No telling what the young man would want.

"What about a Fourth of July barbecue pool party?"

Brian groaned. So far they'd kept the pool to themselves, the only other person to use it being Gus on his week-long vacation during which time they'd taught him how to float and how to use his kickboard to move around in the pool. Their friends had been dropping huge hints about coming over and playing in the pool but he'd been able to foil their plans. Until now. "All right," he said, giving in. "But," he added, "just our friends. No neighbors."

"I like our neighbors," Justin argued.

"I like 'em too but that's just too many people at one time. Gus would spontaneously combust."

The little boy had met some of their neighbors while staying with them and the women, especially, had fallen in love with him and showered him with admiration which he had soaked up, seeming to regard it as his due. He was Brian's son all right. Rachel had even babysat for them giving the two men the opportunity to go out for a romantic dinner, no high chairs or booster seats in sight. Gus had liked her dog even though it had taken some doing to get used to him as dogs were very different from cats. Upon his return home, Leo had sniffed him thoroughly from head to toe while Gus tried to tell him all about Rusty and the things the Lab had done.

Meanwhile, Justin had begun to plan in his head. "This can be a dry run for Gus' birthday party."

"Birthday party?"

"Yeah. The last event of the season," Justin replied.

"Season?" Brian fell back and sighed.

Chuckling, Justin cuddled up to him. "Today Gus' birthday party, tomorrow the PTA. Brian Kinney, suburban dad."

 

The guys had commandeered a table in a relatively quiet corner of Woody's so they could talk without having to shout everything.

Em sipped his Singapore Sling and cocked his head. "So, a Fourth of July soiree huh? What would you wear to one of those?" he asked Ted.

"Red, white, and blue?"

Visions of Emmett showing up in a stars and stripes pair of Speedo and draped in an American flag cover-up made Brian declare, "No fuckin' way. No red, white, or blue."

"Hey," protested Justin. "That's not fair. After all, it is the Fourth of July."

"Okay," Brian amended, "you can wear two of the colors, but not all three. Deal?"

Justin consulted with Em before answering. "Deal," he replied and kissed Brian to seal their agreement.

"What should we bring?" Mikey asked.

Brian shrugged. "Ask Justin, this is his carnival side show."

"Whatever you want," he told Michael. "We're providing the meat and drinks so if you want bring a side dish or dessert, that's cool."

"Oh," Em exclaimed, "I can bring my mom's Fourth of July pie. It's got cherries and blueberries and whipped cream. Delish."

Ted checked with Brian. "Does the three color prohibition extend to food too?"

Instead of answering, Brian flipped him the bird.

"Bald eagle?" asked Ted.

Pecking Brian on the cheek a second time, Justin advised him to, "Give it up, Pookie."

"He will later on at home," Ted joked and Brian quipped, "Have you seen his cock? I've got no problem with that."

Michael, who was there without Jeff, said, "Could we not talk about cocks or fucking?"

"How long has it been?" Brian asked, smirking.

"Too long." Jeff had been out of town on assignment and phone sex was getting old.

Em offered a pithy bit of advice. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"And the dick grow harder," Brian added. 

 

An hour later they were slow dancing in their room, Justin having put on something suitably romantic. Brian could feel Justin's erection pressing against his thigh. Flexing the muscles in his leg, he felt an answering pulse and heard Justin inhale. With that as his cue, he unzipped his lover's trousers and slipped them over his hips. They fell to the floor and Justin stepped out of them. Next came the briefs and tee-shirt. When Justin had been completely divested of clothing, Brian began to unbutton his shirt. After a moment, Justin took over and leisurely finished the job before turning to the rest of Brian's clothes. Each item was duly removed, clever fingers managing to stroke his bare skin as they worked.

Naked and aroused, Brian knelt, his hair brushing over Justin's body, the young artist shivering in excitement. Then, unhurriedly, he kissed his way back up, nuzzling behind Justin's knees, between his thighs, around his navel and nipples, along his neck to his lips. As they kissed, Justin stroked and kneaded Brian's buttocks, fingers slipping down into the crevice between them to tease his hole. He gasped as Justin pressed against the center of his anus and rotated his finger. "Lay down," he was told and he did so. Felt Justin grasp his legs around the knees and raise them up. Felt wispy kisses on his thighs and cheeks. Felt Justin's tongue slither around his hole.

"Mmm…" he moaned and the tongue played among the folds causing him to shudder. He shouted when it gained entrance, grabbing hold of the sheets to steady himself as his body trembled.

"I wanna fuck you," Justin whispered and swiped his asshole with his tongue.

"Unh," Brian grunted.

Justin ate him out, face and lips wet with saliva, listening to his cries as his tongue dug deeper and deeper. Cock hard between his legs, it bumped into the side of the bed, smearing the comforter with precum. Redoubling his efforts, he continued to rim his lover until Brian arched his back and begged him to stop, don't stop, stop, stop.

Releasing Brian's legs, Justin did stop, but only to find the lube on the nightstand. When he was ready, he said, "Turn over." Brian did. "On your knees." Again, Brian complied. Justin climbed on the bed and moved between his thighs. One hand on Brian's back, Justin eased his cock forward, stopping just as the head made contact with Brian's hole. "You want it?" It was part of the ritual.

"Yes," Brian replied breathlessly.

Justin pressed against him, cockhead firm. "Say it."

"Fuck me."

He pushed hard and Brian cried out as he was penetrated. Inching forward, Justin didn't pause until he was completely buried in Brian's ass. "That feel good?"

"Yes." He was totally under Justin's control. All he wanted was to be fucked, hard. As Justin backed out of him, he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that in a moment his lover would be thrusting into him once more.

Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades and down his belly as he fucked Brian for what seemed like forever. Every time he thought he was getting close to coming, he'd stop and rest for a few moments before starting again. Brian demanded to be ridden long and hard, that was the price of fucking him. Not that Justin minded. Sinking into Brian's warm, clinging hole, dick surrounded by his slick insides, Justin gave himself over to the motion of his hips.

Torso dropping to the bed, his ass still raised in the air, Brian began panting. His hole had begun to spasm, he wanted to come so badly his cock ached. Reaching back between his legs, he grabbed hold of his dick and began beating off, spreading precum along the length. Eyes shut tight, he grimaced and gasped. As he came, Justin fucked him harder, slamming into him until it felt as if Justin were coming in his hand.

 

She hadn't been surprised to hear from him, calling to find out if she was free for lunch. Luckily, she wasn't teaching that day and she'd taken Gus to preschool so she was free. It was the first time they'd been alone together in months it seemed. When he stepped across the threshold, they embraced and she squeezed him tight before letting him go and leading him to the sofa. Brushed his hair back from his face. He was letting the bangs grow longer and she was reminded of the brash, young college student she'd known years ago. Except that they had a child now and college was a decade behind them. "Missed you," Lindz said and he twisted his lips in a wry grin.

"Just saw you a week ago," he replied but he knew what she meant. "What's for lunch?"

"Chicken salad."

"Another hour on the treadmill tonight."

Pinching him through his shirt, she couldn't catch hold of his flesh, there wasn't a spare inch to grab. "You hungry?"

"That's why I'm here," he answered so she called him on his bluff and served lunch. Having taken four or five bites, he lay down his fork and said, "Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever gonna get it right."

"What?"

"Life."

Lindsay smiled. "Look around you. You already have."

"Which is why Justin and I are gonna be starting yet another round of HIV testing in a few weeks."

"So what happened?"

He shrugged.

"Has to be a better answer than that."

"Won't make any more sense." Knocking back a third of his lemonade, he wiped his mouth and said, "I wanted him. I can't lie about that. I wanted him and…" He couldn't tell her what Mikey had guessed: that he loved Kenneth just enough for it to hurt. Still, he figured she understood. Other than Justin and Michael, she was the person who knew him best. He shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I can't remember anything. The Doc and I have had session after session and I still can't remember." Another head shake. "Guess I don't want to remember."

"What good would it do?"

"Aren't you the one always preaching about the truth?" he asked.

Caught, she smiled. "Maybe this once, we could let it slide." Ate a potato chip. "All that matters is that you and Justin are okay now."

Amazed and bolstered by her optimism, he asked, "And you still wanna have another kid? With me?"

"I figured we did so well the first time, why not have another one?"

Spotting some of Gus' toys in the corner, Brian chuckled. "I never knew you were a masochist. What about Mel?"

"She's all for it."

"Yeah, I'll bet. What'd you have to do to convince her? Go down on her every night for a week?"

"I do anyway," she replied and laughed at the expression on his face. Then, turning serious, she asked, "What do you say, Pa?" laying her hand over his.

Taking hold of her fingers, he replied, "Why not, Ma?"

A smile widened her lips but she added, "Now, you've got some time to get used to the idea. I want to wait until Gus is a little bit older."

Reaching for his lemonade, Brian said, "I just hope he understands when he has to share his room with a little brother."

"What if it's a little sister?"

"Bite your tongue." He had visions of a miniature Mel no matter who actually carried the baby. Finished his drink. "You know, I had thought that it might be cool if you and Justin had a kid together."

"Oh?" She paused. Not that it was a bad idea, she'd just never considered it.

"But he's set on him and Daphne procreating so there you go. Guess you're stuck with my sperm."

"Luckily, I've acquired a taste for it," she joked and Brian nearly choked on his chicken salad.

"You trying to kill me?"

"Not before I get your jizz," and she popped another potato chip.

"I feel so loved."

 

As they picked through the ears of corn at the grocery store, Justin said, "Maybe next year we could grow something other than herbs."

"Like what?" Brian asked warily. They could barely keep up with the tiny garden they had.

"Maybe some tomatoes, some peppers, something small."

Least he wasn't talking corn. "Where?"

That was the question. They had a pretty big backyard but it hadn't been laid out with gardens in mind. "Maybe near the garage."

"Hmm."

Justin took that for exactly what it was, a sound that signified nothing except that Brian would think about it. Later, as they tried to negotiate the huge selection of hamburger and hotdog buns Justin said, "We should get a bread machine. Make our own homemade bread."

"Yes, dear."

"Shut up." Brian mimed zipping his lips. "Actually, I like it better when they're open."

"Makes it easier for me to taste your buns," Brian said, leaning in close and flicking his tongue.

Taking a quick look around, Justin whispered back, "Hotdogs and buns… Mmm…" and he kissed Brian hard.

Brian grabbed about ten bags of some kind of bread from the shelf, he didn't care what. "Let's get the fuck out of here." 

 

Justin swam lazily across the pool to the edge where Brian lounged, moonlight shimmering on the water, on their skin. Wrapped his arms about his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. Whispered, "Sure your husband won't catch us?"

"Gone for hours," Brian replied.

"So what do you like to do?" asked Justin, hand around Brian's cock, stroking it.

"Take photographs—"

"In bed," Justin said, interrupting him.

"We're not in bed."

"Technicality."

Brian licked his lips. "This is nice."

Justin nipped his earlobe. "You like giving head?"

"Love it."

He released Brian and started up the steps out of the pool. Paused and sat on the uppermost one. Spread his legs and held his cock up by the base. The tip glistened. "Then get to it."

 

Brian cracked the back door. "Let's go." They'd come to pick up Gus for an early weekend stay and he'd immediately taken Justin outside to see an ant hill he'd discovered the day before. Lindsay had warned him not to touch it but she hadn't forbidden him to look at it and he found it endlessly fascinating.

"Maybe he'll grow up to be a biologist," Mel predicted.

"Engineer," guessed Lindsay. "What do you think?" she asked Brian.

"Architect," he said and for some strange reason, it had the ring of truth to it even though he'd only said the first thing that came to mind. "Design the Gay Hall of Fame," he joked.

"Wasn't that what they called the loft?" Lindsay teased.

"Not the Hall of Shame, the Hall of Fame," Mel said.

Brian gave her the finger just as Gus and Justin returned. At Justin's look, he sheathed his weapon and said to Gus, "Ready?"

"I readee," giggled the toddler and he grabbed his pull along SpongeBob backpack which had Beh strapped to it.

Taking Brian aside, Mel checked, "No fireworks, right?"

"Right," he sighed. "They're illegal and they can cause injury and death," he intoned.

"Lindsay talked to you, huh?"

"Lindsay talked to me," he replied, rolling his eyes. Even though he feigned disappointment, he'd never really been into fireworks himself and wouldn't miss them on his account but he thought Gus would have appreciated seeing them. He'd been too young the previous years for fireworks but he was just the right age now to be wowed by the monotonous displays of color and light. Unfortunately, they were having a Fourth of July pool party at the house tomorrow and they might not make it down to the river for the city's fireworks display at Pointe State Park and Mel and Lindsay had squashed any nascent plans of his to acquire illegal fireworks for their own home use. Still, they could probably see some of the fireworks from the house and they could turn on the radio and listen to the live music broadcast that accompanied the event. That's if Gus lasted that long. The displays didn't start until 9:45 and he was generally in bed by then. Maybe they'd get him to take a nap in the late afternoon. Yeah.

Bending over, Justin told Gus, "Tell Daddy to let's roll."

"Less roll, Daddy," Gus said, tugging on Brian's hand.

With the prospect of cooking all afternoon/evening tomorrow looming before them, the guys decided to drop by the diner for dinner and a chat with Debbie. As usual, she was more than happy to see Gus and hugged him warmly before seating him next to his dads. "So what can I get you to eat, Gorgeous Gus?" she asked with her pad at the ready to take down his order.

"Nuggets," he answered without hesitation.

Impressed, Deb took it down and asked, "Anything else?"

"French fries."

"French fries and nuggets for the littlest angel and what can I get for you two miscreants?" she asked of his dads.

"Pasta salad," said Justin, who'd worked today and couldn't bear the thought of actually eating a hamburger after serving them all day.

"Caesar salad," Brian decided and handed her their menus. "You coming over tomorrow?"

"Got my bathing suit all laid out," she promised him, going to put in their orders.

Brian tossed aside his napkin. "There goes my appetite." 

 

With Gus playing around the fountain with Leo, the guys went through their barbecue checklist just in case they needed to make a last minute grocery store run tomorrow morning.

As Brian read down the list, Justin made sure they had the item.

"Napkins."

"Check."

"Drinks."

Justin opened the fridge. "Coke, Ginger Ale, Root Beer, Grape… And there's lemonade and iced tea… Beer. I think we've got it covered."

"Got enough ice?"

He checked the freezer. Besides the trays of ice, they'd gotten four bags. "Yep."

Brian went to the next item. "Ketchup."

"Uh-huh."

"Mustard."

"Yep. And mayonnaise. Relish… and sauerkraut."

"Stop jumping ahead." Brian made his tick marks. "Buns."

Justin grinned and wiggled his behind. "Got 'em."

Returning the grin, Brian went on. "Steak sauce."

"Two bottles."

"That just leaves the meat."

Justin opened the freezer and began stacking the meat in the refrigerator to thaw. "Hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken, steak, salmon steaks, and shrimp."

"Think it's enough?" Brian asked.

"Maybe too much. I doubt if we'll need more than a pack of hot dogs since Gus is the only one who'll probably eat 'em. Maybe Molly." Daphne loved hot dogs too but she wasn't coming. She was doing the Fourth with her family. So back went the other two packs.

"And we can always thaw out more if we need to. Same thing with the chicken breasts and salmon."

Justin put half the salmon back and half the chicken breasts. "I'll leave out most of the steak and all of the shrimp since we didn't get but two pounds anyway," he said as he put back one pack of the steaks. "That it?"

"That's it."

Washing his hands first, he went into the broom closet and brought out a package which he handed to Brian.

"What's this?"

"Open it," he smiled.

Doing so, Brian chuckled and shook his head. It was an apron, full body, which said, "Kiss the Chef." He looped it over his head and modeled it.

"Amazing," Justin judged and gave him his prize: a kiss.

In ran Gus with Leo loping behind him. "Daddy!"

"What?" asked Justin.

"I have a cookie?"

Opening the jar on the counter, he handed Gus a chocolate chip cookie that he'd baked himself. Not that he'd made the dough from scratch. Pre-made block, perforated for easy dismantling and baking. He loved it.

"Thank you." Cookie in hand, Gus went back to the family room and sat on the floor rolling his car around while he ate. Brian checked to make sure he wasn't feeding Leo any of the cookie as they hadn't quite convinced him that cats didn't eat cookies or oranges or green peas.

"You think the rest of our kids are gonna be as good as him?" Justin asked Brian.

"He's something else all right." Brian reached into the jar and got out a cookie for himself.

Slipping his arms around his husband, Justin said proudly, "First class genes." Took a bite of Brian's cookie. Chewed reflectively, then asked, "Did Lindsay ever…? You know?" Raised a brow.

"You know what?" asked Brian, utterly confused.

"Taste it?" he clarified, although still not enough for Brian to decipher his meaning. Giving up, Justin asked, "Did she ever suck you off?"

"I'm not telling you," Brian replied and finished his cookie.

"Please."

"She'd fuckin' kill me."

"I won't tell."

"She'll know. Somehow. It's like mothers have this secret power."

"Brian," Justin begged.

"Uh-uh. So drop it."

Trying another tactic, Justin said, "That means yes."

"Whatever."

Gus returned interrupting Justin's reply. "I want some milk," he said softly, grabbing hold of and leaning against Brian's leg, a definite sign that he was winding down for the day. So his daddy lifted him onto one of the bar stools around the island and poured him a small glass of milk, just enough to wash down his cookie. Afterwards, Brian carried him upstairs, Justin behind them. Bath time. Or it would have been except that after brushing his teeth, Gus fell asleep before they had a chance to run a tub of water. Leaving his undies on and not bothering with his pajamas, they eased him under the covers and turned out the lights. Leo assumed his position at the foot of the bed. Gus' bath could wait until morning.

But the men decided that maybe they'd take one instead. While Brian brought up a bottle of wine and two glasses, Justin ran the water and lit a couple of tapers, set them on the window sill. Stood for a moment looking out at the backyard. Tomorrow it'd be filled with their family and friends; he could already hear the laughter and music, could see Gus running around in the grass playing hide-and-seek with Emmett and Molly. He chuckled imagining Debbie in her bathing suit and Brian with his hands over his eyes.

"What?" asked Brian, coming up behind him.

"Just thought about Deb in her bathing suit."

Brian groaned and shut his eyes. "Don't remind me."

"Tell you what," Justin said, "just think about me in mine."

He smiled. "Much better." Turned off the water. Bubbles came within five inches of the top. Without any preamble, they dropped off their clothes and slipped into the tub, Justin taking his customary place between Brian's thighs, leaning back against his chest.

Sighing, he smiled. "I love this bathtub."

"I love this bathroom," Brian commented.

Justin added, "It's so… decadent." He raised up and got their wine from the window sill. They clicked glasses. "Cheers."

"To us."

After a sip, Justin said, "I was thinking."

"Uh-oh."

"Since you—" and he halted in mid sentence. Fuck. He was just about to say, _"Since you're not working on the Hyperion account anymore, can we sneak in a few days at the inn?"_

"Since I what?"

"Mm. Nothing," Justin replied hoping Brian would drop it but, of course, he wasn't going to drop it. He wouldn't have.

It had to be about Kenneth. "You can say his name. I won't fall apart." Brian shifted and put away his wine, settled back down.

"I know," Justin said softly. "I just… I don't want to hurt you." After all, it'd been less than a month since the incident.

"It doesn't hurt anymore."

He said nothing, yet Justin could feel the tension in Brian's body.

"I just wish… I could remember." He could still hear Kenneth's denial of rape in his mind and that, more than anything, drove him to try when everything and everyone else said let it go. Maybe Lindsay was right, maybe it was better not to remember.

"How would it change things if you did?" Justin asked, echoing her sentiments.

"Maybe… maybe it wouldn't," he replied although that wasn't what he'd intended to say. "Maybe I wouldn't feel like such a liar," he finally admitted.

Justin turned. "About what?"

"Almost everything." Brian looked away, paused then said, "I can't believe this is fucking happening to us. Again. I just—it was supposed to be different."

"Different how? We were supposed to live this fairy tale life? What?" Justin waited and when Brian didn't answer, he cupped his face. "Tell me." No more silences.

"I wanted to do this right," Brian explained. "I didn't want to fuck it up like everything else."

"But you didn't. We’re still together. He didn't ruin that for us. And you haven't fucked anything up. Look at you, at what you've accomplished: with your career, with your life. Look at you and Gus, and you and your mom, look at us. Gus loves you, you're a great dad; and I can't believe how far you and Joanie have come: you did that. And you're the best hubby in the entire world." Brian grimaced on cue and Justin smiled and kissed him. "And I love you. More than anything and anyone. I would do anything for you. That hasn't changed. Never will." They embraced and Brian pecked him on the cheek.

"I love you."

"I know."

Brian laughed and Justin turned and rested easily against him once more. Then he began to fidget. "What's up with you?"

"Tickles."

"What?"

"The hair on your chest."

Moving Justin out of the way, Brian looked down at his pecs. "It hasn't grown." Justin settled back down and Brian ran his hands over his husband's mostly smooth body, lingering over his buttocks and crotch.

"Don't start nothing you can't finish," the young man murmured in warning.

Brian cupped Justin's chin and tilted his face for a lingering kiss, challenge accepted.

 

He awoke from a dream of Tuscany. In it, he and Justin had been strolling down a dirt path that wound through a grove of olive trees. The sun-filled sky had been just as beautiful as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. They hadn't been going anywhere in particular, just walking, wandering, much like life in Tuscany, he imagined. Life anywhere. Smiling, he opened his eyes to find Gus standing next to the bed, waiting patiently. "Hey," he said, clearing his throat.

"Hey," laughed Gus as if he'd caught Brian being silly.

Brian never knew what amused the toddler but laughter was better than tears. "You go pee yet?"

"Yeah." Gus climbed onto the bed and knelt next to Brian, examining his forearm which he held onto to keep his balance. In a moment Leo appeared, lightly landing on the comforter.

"The gang's all here." Brian laid back and closed his eyes, hoping Gus would join him and return to sleep.

"Daddy?" The little boy shook his arm until Brian opened his eyes again. "I'm hungry," he announced.

"You're always hungry. You and Justin."

At that, Gus climbed over him to get to his other daddy, falling in the process and jolting Justin awake.

"What?" he exclaimed, coming to all of a sudden. Looked around. "Hey, Gus."

"Daddy, I'm hungry."

Justin could understand that sentiment as his stomach felt a little empty too. "Me too." He got up and held out his arms. Gus went to him and together they started downstairs, Leo having decided to join them.

"Have fun," Brian said, fully intending to go back to sleep.

Justin looked back over his shoulder at him. "Come on, Dad. Chop chop."

"Cha cha," said Gus, waving at Brian.

Dragging himself out of bed and heading for the bathroom, Brian made a sign to the other two that he'd join them momentarily.

With Gus in his arms and Leo hot on his trail, Justin made a beeline for the kitchen where he settled the tot on a stool with a banana and scooped a handful of food into the kitten's bowl before disappearing into the downstairs bathroom. By the time he finished in there, Brian had come down and was pouring Gus a glass of juice. They shared a kiss.

"Today's the day, huh?" Brian asked.

"Ready?" Opening the fridge, he decided to make frozen waffles.

Brian filled the coffee maker with water. "Hell, we put on a wedding."

"Scarier still," Justin reminded him, "we had the neighbors over."

"Exactly." Brian perched on a stool next to Gus. "Can I have some?" The toddler held the banana up to his face and Brian took a bite. Chewed and swallowed. "Delicious. Can I have some more?"

Gus giggled and pulled the banana away, then offered it once more. "Here, Daddy."

"Thank you." He took a teeny, tiny bite and smiled as Gus finished off the rest before he could ask for any more. When the coffee stopped dripping, he poured both he and Justin a cup and added cream and sugar just the way Justin liked it. Handed it to him as he made strawberry sauce for the waffles.

"Thanks, Pookie."

"Pookie," laughed Gus and Brian put down his cup to tickle him and make him laugh even harder.

"If he falls off that stool, Mel is gonna kill you."

Brian swung Gus in the air to the toddler's delight, then held him close for a kiss. "Love me?"

"Yeah."

"Good, cause I love you too."

"I love you, Daddy."

Waffles being one of his favorite foods, Gus nearly hummed as he ate, his parents amused by his happiness and attempting to hide their grins behind forkfuls of food.

When they were all done, they cleaned up and the men began to think about decorating the yard in preparation for the party that afternoon. Brian had forbidden the use of any patriotic accessories but Justin had talked him into using a variety of colors so that the yard at least looked festive.

"Think of it as Pride rather than the Fourth of July," Justin had told him.

"Whatever. As long as I don't have to think about that asshole Dubuya today, I'll be happy. Schmuck."

Leaving Gus inside painting in the studio with Leo curled under a window, they went about hanging the lights Rennie had given them as a wedding present. Entwining the strands of lights in the top of the pergola, they plugged the end into an outdoor socket and tested it out. Although the lights were faint in the early morning, they could imagine how bright and beautiful they'd look at night like their very own fireworks.

Since they weren't allowed to have firecrackers of any kind, Justin had picked up some colored, aluminum party favors that were shaped like sparklers. He'd also gotten some pinwheels and bubbles, something fun for all of them to play with during the day. But those would be put out later with the tablecloth and centerpiece. In fact, the sparklers would be part of the centerpiece along with some flowers and a couple of noisemakers left over from their last New Year's party at the loft.

They'd purchased a few gas torches that could be set around the backyard to provide light once evening came so Brian went around moving them while Justin watched and gave suggestions as to optimal placement. Once they were done with the torches, they went inside to see how Gus was faring with his picture.

"Wow, Gus," Justin exclaimed, squatting next to the young artist. "That's fantastic." He'd drawn what looked to be a rough approximation of Leo lying beneath the window. Justin could tell because the blob below the black lines was yellow. "Is that Leo?"

"Yeah," replied Gus a little abashed. He had worked very hard on the painting of Leo and wanted them to like it enough to hang it in the hallway next to the picture Daddy had taken of him and Leo.

Justin gave Brian a look as he hadn't said anything about the picture yet and it was obvious to him that Gus was waiting for some words of praise from his other daddy. "Oh, yeah," Brian said, "it's pretty amazing. I knew it was Leo right away. I think we should frame this one, don’t you?"

Even though he thought Brian was laying it on a little thick, Justin agreed. "We can hang it up. Where do you want to hang your painting, Gus?"

The little boy grabbed Justin's hand and tugged on it, so the two men followed him out to the gallery where he pointed to a space right next to Brian's photograph.

Brian couldn’t fault his placement. "We'll go out tomorrow and find a frame, okay?"

"Okay." Gus grinned and did a little head bob wiggle dance.

While Justin worked on the centerpiece with his assistant, Monsieur Peterson, Brian busied himself with putting the meat in marinades. For a few minutes he worked without distraction and then Leo came in and rubbed against his leg. Pausing, he bent over and ruffled the kitten's neck and laughed. If his tricks could see him now they wouldn't recognize him. Hell, he hardly recognized himself. And Jack, if Jack were still alive… Brian stowed the steak away in the fridge and washed his hands. If Jack hadn't died, maybe he and Joanie would have never reconciled. She most definitely wouldn’t have given any thought to a career, to going back to school, wouldn't have helped with the wedding, the house. As for himself, nothing Jack could have said or done would have kept him from marrying Justin, from building a new life for himself. He had been his own worst enemy. And Chris Hobbs.

God, he hadn't thought of that asshole for a while. He and Justin had been in the midst of yet another crisis this year when that anniversary had fallen so it had passed without notice. Resting for a moment, he sat at the island thinking about that night. As always, he heard himself shout, "Justin!" in warning, a fraction too late. Saw the bat strike. Watched Justin fall. He closed his eyes and tried to shake the memories but he couldn't. He could feel the dead weight of Justin's body in his arms and he trembled. The teen had seemed so fragile, his tether to life so tenuous. Brian had held him in his arms, terrified of losing him before he had a chance to tell him that he meant everything to him. Even though he sat in his kitchen, in his mind, he was crouched on the asphalt of that parking garage.

And then he felt a hand on his shoulder, soft lips upon his neck. Two arms wrapped themselves around him and he felt safe again.

Blue eyes as clear as the sky watched over him. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied and smiled as Justin brushed his bangs back from his face, much the same as Lindsay had done and he realized, not for the first time, how much the two of them had in common. Wondered if maybe, unconsciously, he had responded to the same thing in both of them. Both blond, both artists, both annoyingly hip to his ways. Both fighters for what they believed in. Maybe if Lindz had been a guy he would have stayed with her; as is, they'd both known that they weren't meant to be lovers. And he'd moved on. And had met Cam. But that was for another day. Justin had taken his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Everything's done and we've got a few hours before our guests arrive…" he said with the lift of an eyebrow.

"What about Gus?"

"Taking a nap."

Brian snickered. "No fucking way you're gonna get him to take a nap in the middle of the day."

Justin crooked his finger and Brian followed him to the family room where Gus lay softly snoring.

Never one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers, Brian asked, "Where?"

"You'll see." 

 

By the time Gus woke from his nap, his dads were cleaned up and ready to face their guests who were due to arrive soon. Giving Gus a couple of crackers to tide him over, the men set the table and made sure everything was ready. Napkins and utensils in a basket, the centerpiece in place, plastic plates and glasses arrayed in a rainbow of colors. Positioned a 12 disc CD changer under the pergola with a carrying case full of CDs next to it. They put out a cooler of drinks buried in ice and made sure they had enough places for everyone to sit, which meant bringing out some of the chairs from their casual dining set.

"What are we going to do with Leo?" asked Justin. If Gus were outside playing, Leo would certainly want to be out there with him and the little boy would most definitely want him to be out there.

"Guess we'll have to put him upstairs in Gus' room."

"He's gonna hate that and so will Gus."

"Well, he can't come outside."

Justin gave in, aware that Brian was only being practical. "Fine."

"It's not like it's Leavenworth," Brian pointed out. "He's got his cat house and box and we can put his food up there—besides all he does is sleep most of the day anyway."

Before they could discuss it any further, the doorbell rang. Justin took a deep breath and Brian smooched him on the forehead.

It was Mel and Lindsay, come over early in case there was anything they could do and also to see Gus whom they missed even though they'd only been apart one day. Brian understood how they felt. He often missed Gus the moment they said goodbye at the Munchers' front door.

"What'd you bring?" Justin asked, taking the huge casserole dish Lindsay had carried inside.

"Potato salad."

"Cool." He placed it in the fridge while the other three adults headed for the family room where Gus was playing with Leo. As he entered the space, he saw Gus tug on Mel's arm to get her to come look at his painting. Laughing, she and Lindsay followed. Before either Justin or Brian could say anything, someone else rang the doorbell.

Picking up Leo, Brian said, "I'll put him upstairs."

"I'll leave the door open. Otherwise we'll be running to answer it every five seconds."

It was Deb and Vic with a huge, bright and sunny sheet cake. Directing them to the kitchen, and noting that Deb wore her suit under a huge shirt cover-up and a pair of shorts, Justin left the door open and then carried Leo's food and water dish upstairs to Gus' room. Brian had just taken in his cat box and was heading back downstairs.

"Did he fuss?" Justin asked as he opened the door to the room.

"Curled up on the bed. He's a cat. They sleep." Brian waited until Justin had come out again. "Who was it?"

"Deb and Vic."

As they descended the stairs someone came in the back door. "Hey, Mom."

"It's a beautiful day," she said as Justin bussed her on the cheek and took her dish.

Brian kissed her as well. "Three bean salad?"

With a self-deprecating laugh, she confirmed his guess.

"They're out in the studio praising Gus' latest masterpiece," he told her and she joined the others. "Think I ought to fire up the grill?"

"Probably," Justin replied. "Well, so far we've got potato salad, three-bean salad, and cake."

"I think Mikey's bringing tossed salad," Brian said. Least that's what Mikey had told him the day before. "What about Jenn?"

"Pasta salad." A door slammed outside. "Someone's coming."

Within the next ten minutes, everyone else had arrived: Molly and Jenn, Ted and Emmett, and Mikey and Jeff. The party moved outside with Em doing DJ duty and loading up the CD changer before sauntering out to the pool and draping one of the chaise lounges with his lanky body.

Ted gestured towards him. "Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Tallulah Bankhead."

Gus couldn’t wait to show everyone his new swimming skills—which consisted of floating around the pool using his kickboard. While Brian tended to the grill, Justin got the toddler into his swimsuit and let him go. Duly impressed, his mommies cheered him on as he and Molly made a circuit of the pool. Once they'd taken their victory lap, the other guests joined them for a dip and Justin tried to take their orders for the grill. Assured that he'd surveyed everyone, he returned inside to relay the message to the chef and to bring out the chips and salsa.

"So?"

"Two chickens, two hotdogs, and the rest want steak."

"What about you?" Brian asked, opening the fridge to retrieve the meat.

"I want you," he replied, sliding his arms around Brian's waist.

"Had me earlier today."

"I'm greedy."

Brian slapped the steaks on the grill, followed by the chicken. The hotdogs would go on later. "Gotta wait, Baby. I've got my hands full. They say how they want these?"

"Medium rare. You're the only one who wants to hunt his food before he eats it." Accepting a raincheck for playtime, Justin ferried out the salsa and chips. Gus met him at the table.

"Daddy, where Leo?"

"Leo's inside. Remember? He can't come outside."

"I go see him?"

"No, Gus, let him sleep. You can see him later. Okay?" The little boy pouted and Justin knelt and kissed him. "Okay?" Kissed him again. "Okay?" Gus began to giggle and squirm. "Okay?"

"Okay!" Gus yelled and dissolved into laughter.

"You want a chip?"

"Uh-uh."

"You want some lemonade?"

"Yeah."

A little thirsty himself, Justin poured them each a glass of lemonade and they sat on the double chaise and watched Deb and Vic and Emmett frolic in the pool. Jeff and Mikey were walking around the yard and Mel and Lindsay were checking out the herb garden by the kitchen.

"So Ted," asked Jenn, "ever think about buying a house?"

He gazed back at the pergola and solarium and shook his head. "Nothing like this, that's for sure."

"We can start small and work our way up," she said. "I've got some ideas."

"I bet you do," he replied, rising as if to stroll the yard.

She joined him. "We've got some lovely townhouses listed…"

Abandoned by her mom in search of commissions, Molly joined Justin and Gus by the tortilla chips. "Where's Brian?"

"Inside cooking."

"You think he needs some help?"

"Why don't you go ask him?" Justin suggested and grinned as Molly took off for the kitchen. He waited for the sound of a longsuffering sigh.

Eventually the meat was done grilling and everyone trooped into the kitchen where the sides were arranged on the island, and fixed their plates. Afterwards, Gus clutched a hot dog in one hand and a cup of lemonade in the other and sat on the double chaise lounge at Brian and Justin's feet eating happily.

"Good?" asked Brian and Gus nodded sparking a round of laughter.

"He's Justin's kid, all right," Deb commented.

"Loves those ballpark franks," teased Em.

"Plump when you stroke em," added Ted who was showered with a hail of balled up napkins.

"Hey, Brian," Mel called across the pool, "this steak is pretty good."

"He knows everything there is to know about meat," Justin told her. They all looked to Ted who busied himself with eating. Wise move.

Having finished his hotdog, Gus went to sit with his Nanas who were discussing a client of Jennifer's who had just moved into a new house and was looking for an interior decorator.

"Well, I'm going to be taking four classes this fall but I think I'll have time," Joanie told her. Gus watched her intently. "Remember I told you Nana was going to school too?" He nodded. "Isn't he adorable?"

Jennifer agreed. "He's too sweet. I love him to death." Gus went to her and gave her a hug.

"Nana Jenn."

"What?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Having heard the exchange, Justin flashed on Jennifer hugging his son, his and Daphne's, and the desire for a child grew stronger. It wasn't that he didn't consider Gus to be his son as well as Brian's, he did. It was just… different. Maybe if they were Gus' legal guardians instead of Lindsay and Mel he'd feel more secure in his relationship. As is, he was never quite sure. He supposed it was how Mel had felt before Brian had surrendered his parental rights to her. And he knew that, over the years, Brian had regretted his decision. Not that he felt Lindsay and Mel weren't good parents, he knew that they were, he just felt as if he'd given something precious away that he'd never get back. And every time he and the Munchers had disagreed about Gus, Brian's decision had loomed overhead, darkening the day. Still, no one could deny that Gus was Brian's son. Brian's place in his life was inviolate. Justin only wished he felt as if his were. He supposed that it had more to do with his insecurity than any difference in the way he was treated. Gus loved him and if he didn't love him as much as he loved Brian, well, Gus didn't love anyone as much as he loved Brian. Justin understood the sentiment; it was how he felt as well.

Brian touched his face, making him look up. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He smiled, amazed that Brian had noticed the shift in his mood. "The steak was really good."

"You can thank me later."

"You think they'll ever leave?"

"Kicking them out after sunset," Brian promised with a grin. They both knew it'd be a long afternoon and evening. Everybody looked comfortable and as if they had no intention of leaving any time soon.

Now that he'd eaten, Gus was in the mood to dance. Encouraged by Em, he bobbed and weaved around the pool area while the adults clapped. Soon Molly joined him and the two kids kept everyone else entertained for quite some time before Justin pulled Brian to his feet, saying, "I'm tired of being a wallflower."

As if that was the cue they were waiting for, the other couples rose to take a turn about the patio too. For the next hour or so they danced, Brian and Justin parting after a while to partner with their mothers for a song or two before finding one another once more and swaying to a slow burning song that had them wishing their guests were gone.

"I love you," Justin whispered.

"Love you too," Brian replied with a kiss that went on a tad too long to escape notice.

"I thought your apron said 'Kiss the Chef' not 'Tongue Wrestle'," joked Jeff who had done some discreet kissing of his own with Michael. So he hoped. He'd been out of town on assignment for a week and hadn't had time to properly celebrate yet.

Neither Brian nor Justin answered, they were too busy kissing still and not even the laughter of their friends could hasten them. What did finally bring their kiss to an end was Gus tugging on Justin's arm and wanting to dance with him. So Justin reluctantly parted from his husband in order to dance with his son, Gus giggling while they did the Naked Dance as Justin called it since it was the dance Gus had first done naked and standing on top of their bed. Most of the people assembled had seen the toddler do his Naked Dance at one function or another but they never grew tired of watching him bounce around, especially with his Daddy Justin.

Supplanted by his son, Brian retired to the chaise lounge and took a needed breather. Today was going well. They'd needed to have some fun, to relax and hang with their friends. It'd been so long, it seemed, since they'd been really happy, thanks to Kenneth. "No," Brian voiced softly to himself. He wouldn't let Kenneth ruin today.

As the dancing seemed to be dying down, folks started discussing playing party games to while away the late afternoon. Brian and Justin made a food run to the house to replenish the chips and salsa and Brian quickly grilled the shrimp for a simple appetizer.

"How about, 'Have You Ever'?" suggested Em.

"What's that?" Molly wanted to know.

"It's where you ask a question like, Have you ever locked your keys in the car?" he explained, "and each person gets a point if they've ever done it. The person with the lowest points wins."

Gus was exempted from playing as he was still learning words every day and sometimes didn't understand what was being said around him but he sat on Brian's lap and clapped and laughed along with the rest of them. The biggest laugh came when someone asked, "Have you ever broken your zipper in public?" and Brian replied, "Yeah. The first White Party I went to. After that I switched to button fly."

"No velcro?" asked Em.

Brian grinned. "Allergic."

Afterwards they played Movie Star where each person had to impersonate a famous movie star in one of their roles and the others had to guess who it was. When it got to Brian, he squinted and said in a lazy voice, "Well, I don't know 'bout that. But I know that I thought about him every day for five years. And that was the only thing that kept me going." Of course, no one knew what film that was from so he tried another quote from another of the actor's movies, "I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving." In the end, he had to tell them who it was. "Marlon Brando." Rolled his eyes. "Jesus, don't you guys watch anything but porn?"

"Brian!" This from Joanie.

"Sorry."

Around seven everyone was ready to eat again and Brian went back into the kitchen to grill up some more steaks and chicken and hot dogs. While Justin did hostess duty, Gus kept Brian company. Actually, he wanted to see Leo more than he wanted to help his dad and after Brian had given him permission to bring the cat downstairs, the two of them ran around the family room while Brian cooked. Lindsay wandered in and leaned on the countertop watching him.

"Look at you. Barbecuing."

"Not barbecuing. Grilling," he explained.

"You and Justin look so happy," she said.

He smiled. "That's cause we are."

"And the house looks fabulous. You really do have it all, don't you?"

Unbidden, the image of Kenneth appeared, haunting him. "Almost lost it all too."

Lindsay shook her head. "Never. Justin loves you too much." Coming around to stand next to him, she plucked at his apron strings. "Besides, where would he find another chef as cute as you are?"

"Justin tell you about the mural he's doing in the guest bedroom?"

"No."

"Tuscan countryside."

"Mel has promised me a trip to Italy."

"Better go soon before you have another kid."

"That's what daddies are for."

Cautiously he asked, "For how long?"

"Couple weeks."

Shrugged. "That I can do."

"You're a good dad," she told him with a kiss. Looked around at the sound of slapping feet. "Here comes the proof."

"Mommy!"

"What?"

"Leo wants to go outside."

"What did Daddy say about that?" Gus fidgeted and didn't answer. "Gus?"

"No," he replied reluctantly.

"That's right. Leo has to stay inside, okay?"

"No!"

Turning from the grill, Brian caught Gus' eye and raised a brow.

Lindsay tried again. "Okay?"

" 'kay." Sadly, Gus returned to the family room and he and Leo played on the rug by the sectional.

"Very good, Dad."

"We have this discussion every time he comes over."

"Well, he's got Justin's tenacity."

"And appetite."

"And hips." She laughed. "Did you see that dance he did outside?"

Brian chuckled and shook his head.

Just then Gus' other dad poked his head into the door in the family room. "Come on, Gus, let's go swimming," and the toddler abandoned Leo for the pool.

"I think I'm going back out too," Lindz announced.

Alone for all of a minute, Brian concentrated on brushing on marinade before his mom came into the kitchen.

"Need any help?"

"Nope." Looked over his shoulder. "Thanks."

Joanie climbed onto one of the stools around the island. "I didn't think about actually sitting on these things when I picked them out."

"They look good. And we all know, looking good is better than feeling good," he joked.

Joanie laughed. "That sounds like the old you." She studied him for a moment. "I almost didn't recognize you. Standing there. Cooking."

"Hmm," he replied, then said thoughtfully, "This was good day."

"You thought it wouldn’t be?"

"I thought about our one insane attempt to have a Fourth of July picnic when I was a kid. 'member?"

Joanie shaded her eyes. "Don't remind me."

That had been a catastrophe. A yard full of drunken Irish relatives, a hammered host burning burgers on the grill, and a hostess getting slowly plastered from her regal perch at the head of a picnic table. Brian had escaped and gone to Mikey's house, abandoning one madhouse for another.

"I was surprised when you said you wanted to have a Fourth of July party," she admitted.

"Well, Justin wanted it…"

"So you agreed."

"Least I could do," he confessed. "After everything that's happened."

"You can't blame yourself for that."

"Why not? It's my fault." Taking the meat off the grill, he plated it and got ready to return to the party.

Joanie slid off the stool to follow. Touched his arm. "I want you to enjoy your life."

He paused for a moment before answering. "I do. I do," he reassured her. Laughed abruptly. "Laughin' o' cryin', that's the Irish way," he said with a slight brogue.

Before she could speak, Deb and Jennifer arrived to help bring out the side dishes and Brian took the opportunity to escape the mayhem that ensued. But he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of melancholy that had descended upon him. Waiting until everyone seemed to be occupied, he got up and wandered around to the front of the house, using smoking as an excuse to be away from the party.

Justin followed him worriedly with his eyes but didn't go after him, recognizing his need to be alone.

He sat on the steps and smoked the one cigarette he allowed himself per day. Tried to keep his mind off Kenneth but, of course, that backfired. Ryder was preparing to meet with the folks from Hyperion next month to go over initial responses to the ads. He'd seen the TV ad himself and thought it was pretty effective. They'd gone with his ideas, hadn't changed anything. The night he'd seen the ad, he'd left Justin in bed and gone to stand in his office, shaking with anger, until the desire to scream had passed. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. He'd worked hard on Hyperion's accounts, worked hard on the Afibrinase campaign and for what? To watch himself be supplanted by Ryder, to see doubt in the faces of his fellow partners every time they met, wondering what he'd done to sour things with Kenneth. Worse were the dreams he had, flashes of moments that could have been memories. He still didn't know.

"Herb garden looks good."

He'd heard someone coming, known it wasn't Justin. Glanced up at Jennifer. "He's out here every day doing something to it."

"Takes work."

"Guess."

Jennifer gestured towards the back of the house. "He's worried about you."

"Figured." Took a last puff on his cigarette and put it out. "I'm all right."

She brushed her fingers over the tall stalks of mint. "His father and I didn't set a good example, I'm afraid."

"My parents either."

"But here you are. Flourishing. It's something to be proud of." She held out her hand. "Walk me back?"

He accepted. 

 

That evening, after the food was eaten and the stars had come out, they drove downtown to park and watch the fireworks. Gus, who had seemed on the verge of collapse, perked up as the first of the fireworks exploded in the sky above him. Seated on his father's shoulders, and waving his own aluminum sparkler, he was mesmerized by the Technicolor display, each shower of light as magical as the last. When the show was over, Brian and Justin parted from their friends and family and returned home with Gus, putting the toddler to bed.

"Daddy," he said sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"Fi..."

Brian pronounced it for him. "Fireworks."

"Fiworks."

"They were pretty, huh?"

"Yeah. Boom!" he shouted, remembering how loud they were. Closed his eyes as Brian kissed him. "Boom," he said softly.

His sparkler on the bed beside him, Gus slept, the night filled with dreams of light. 

 

It might have surprised some of their guests, but the time they spent working quietly together to set their kitchen to rights meant as much to them as an intimate dinner for two. It affirmed their partnership in the most basic way: taking pride in the beauty of their home, knowing where everything belonged, knowing how to work together, being aware of the other person at every moment. When they were done, they checked all the doors, set the alarm, put up the security gates at the tops of the stairs, and walked, arms about one another, to their bedroom.

"I think everyone had a great time," Justin said as they settled into bed.

"Yep."

" 'cept you." Justin waited for Brian to deny it but the man said nothing. "Tell me."

"I had fun."

"But…"

"But nothing. I had a good time. Inhaled too much smoke from the grill…"

Only Justin remembered how Brian had left the party to be by himself. "I thought, maybe you, you were thinking about Kenneth, that's why you wanted to be alone."

He couldn't lie. "I was." Added, "I didn't mean to, I didn't even want to—"

"I know."

"I swear to you that I…don't want him. I want to be with you. I love you."

"You don't have to convince me. I know that you do. I've never doubted that."

"No matter what anyone says, if I knew what happened, I could move on. I could deal with it and let go. I feel… like part of me is missing."

Justin clutched his arm. "Brian…"

"I want it back. Whatever he took from me, I want it—"

"He didn't take anything. Nothing. Brian." He cupped his face. "You're here with me. Nothing's missing." Held onto him when Brian would have pulled away. "Stay here with me." Kissed him. "Please." Brian laid his head upon Justin's shoulder, let the young man embrace him, keep him safe, and in doing so he began to free himself from the burden of the past.

 

This was the first time he'd painted a room in the house without Xavier and Rennie's help. He'd called them the night before to tell them that he was going to do the guestroom alone. Both had given him much needed advice and expressed confidence in his abilities. He really missed them. Wondered if they'd stay in touch once they'd graduated and gone their separate ways. They would. Bonds that strong didn't just dissolve. Even if they didn't initially keep in touch, the connection between them would tug at them until they'd be forced to seek out the others. He imagined driving up to New York or down to DC to see Xavier's shows, Rennie's too. Maybe they'd do a show together. With that thought in his mind, he began to work on the mural.

Hours later he'd made some progress with the chalk drawing, transferring the design he'd worked out on paper to the wall Working alone, it would take him several days to finish the mural. He didn't mind. Outside of work at the diner he didn't have anything else to do. He spent a half hour or so in the garden, devoted the same amount of time most nights to cooking dinner, usually with Brian's help. Together they cleaned the house on the weekends. His was a rather leisurely life these days. For that he was grateful. Having lived through a number of chaotic times, he was more than happy to play the part of a satisfied hausfrau. And he was satisfied. Completely. Or would be if Brian were all right. Which he most definitely was not no matter what he said.

He'd be home in a little while. Exhausted from work yet vaguely dissatisfied. Justin knew how much it grated his nerves to watch the Afibrinase campaign from afar, having worked so hard on its conception. He understood the feeling, sympathized with Brian but could do little else.

"Justin!" Brian called, coming up the stairs.

"In here!" he yelled back and finished putting away his supplies.

Brian hovered at the door just in case Justin had done any painting but he hadn't. Smelling nothing noxious, he entered the room and studied the drawing. "It's good."

"Not finished yet."

"No rush. We don't have any furniture in here anyway."

"Any ideas?" Justin asked, hoping to prod Brian into revealing a plan, a preference, something.

Exchanging a kiss, Brian said, "Later."

"Hungry?"

"Not really," he replied. "Tired."

"What happened?"

"Nothing." Brian headed for their suite to change and Justin, torn between following him and giving him space, stood in indecision until Brian paused by Gus' room, waiting for him. He joined him, taking his hand.

"How about we go away for the weekend? Just for a couple days, just the two of us?" Waited for Brian's refusal.

"Maybe the Munchers can take Leo."

"Gus would love that."

"This weekend?"

"If there's room at the inn."

"I'll call," he said, reaching for the bedside phone.

Which was when Justin realized just how down Brian really was. While Brian checked on room availability for the weekend, Justin found his cell and dialed their favorite Thai restaurant. He didn't feel like cooking and Brian didn't feel like helping. Maybe the smell of lemongrass soup would stimulate Brian's appetite.

"They've got a cabin available," Brian said, hanging up the telephone. He removed his jacket. "I told them we'd be up Friday night." Loosened his tie. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"I ordered Thai." Kissed Brian on the cheek. "I'll be back."

For once Brian was glad to shower alone. Watching Justin go, he finished stripping and padded into the bathroom. Turned on the water and adjusted the temperature before stepping in the middle of the stall and getting soaked from two directions.

Today had been the worst. He'd had meetings with two teams involved with biotech firms Kenneth had help bring on board. Even though their products were vastly different and the campaigns nothing like the work he'd done for Hyperion, he couldn’t help but feel maudlin during both meetings. That feeling had persisted throughout the day. He'd worked his ass off on Hyperion's account and now he had to sit back and watch Marty run with his ideas, work with his handpicked team.

He turned and laid his head against the cool tile of the shower, let the water beat against his back. Why couldn’t he let go? They were his ideas, true, and if the ads won any awards, he'd get the recognition not Ryder so why did he care that Marty got stuck with the grunt work? Because he enjoyed managing accounts. He was the best account executive in the firm. His projects always came in on time and on budget. He got the most work out of his people: they were dedicated to him because he knew how to reward them plus they had the satisfaction of knowing that they were working with the best. Not anymore.

Ryder hadn't even let him tell them himself about the change in leadership. Truthfully, he wouldn't have known what to say even if he'd been given the chance. I fucked up, fucked the client, so I'm being punished. That was one truth he couldn't speak, not to the team, not to the partners. Ryder was the only one who knew. Ryder and Cynthia, who knew all of his secrets. She'd been with him for a long time and he trusted her to watch his back and she'd never failed him. Today she'd watched him leave work and, for the first time, she had to have wondered if he'd come back tomorrow. Not since the Kip Thomas debacle had he felt so estranged from the firm.

"Fuck it," he whispered and cut off the water. There was no point in dwelling on it. All he needed was to get away, to get away from Pitts, go walking out in the open, take his mind off of Kenneth and the mess he'd made of things. Only wherever he went, there he was. Not Kenneth. Himself. Wherever I go, there I am. An old joke but the truth nonetheless. If there was only a way for him to get out of his head…

He toweled off and slipped on a pair of lounge pants Justin had bought for him. Black and low-slung to emphasize what little ass he had. He was, as he'd frequently said, all legs. That was okay, Justin loved him just the way he was.

After dressing, with nothing to do but wait until Justin returned with dinner, he decided to do a few miles on the treadmill. Totally ass backwards to shower and then exercise but there you have it.

Fifteen minutes into his run he became aware of another person in the room. Slowed to a walk and then glanced over his shoulder. "Hey."

"You shower yet?"

"Yeah." Cut off the treadmill and got down.

Justin ran his hand over Brian's bare chest, his palm getting wet from the sweat. "Just have to do it all over again," he said, smiling slyly.

"Yep." Brian drew Justin to him and kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips.

"After dinner?"

"It's a date."

As Justin had hoped, Brian's appetite showed signs of returning when he espied the container of lemongrass soup. Removing the top, he inhaled deeply and sighed.

Taking a couple of candles to light the evening, they ate outside beneath the wisteria in the courtyard. Justin grasped Brian's hand across the table.

"What?"

"We're so lucky." Brian said nothing, only squeezed his hand. "I love you." He smiled from beneath partially lowered eyelids. "I know I say it all the time but it's true. I love you."

"I love you too." Brian closed his eyes and Justin touched his face with his free hand. "Today was such a shitty day," he said. "And I just wanted… I wanted…" He sniffled. Smiled. "This. To be home with you. I missed you."

"You're here now. With me. So let's not waste it."

Brian laughed and freed his hand. Began to eat again. 

 

They ran laughing up the stairs and collapsed on their bed, already aroused, hungry for one another. But instead of making love, they lay entangled in their clothes and the covers and in each other's arms and laughed the way Gus did when he was particularly amused by something that none of the rest of them understood. Finally, catching his breath, Brian said, "We need to get away cause I think we're going crazy."

"I can't wait to go ballooning again." Justin waited for Brian to nix that plan but the man only sighed audibly and tightened his grip on him. "Picnicking."

"Now that I can appreciate," Brian said, remembering them fooling around beneath a tree.

"Candlelight dinners… dancing…" Not that they didn't do those things at home but a change of scenery would be nice. Although they'd agreed not to take another month-long vacation like they had the year before, citing finances, Justin had to admit that he missed the time they'd spent together overseas, just the two of them, wandering around Europe in summer. It'd been romantic beyond belief and therapeutic, just what they'd needed after the insanity of spring. But this year they'd had a wedding and bought a house and decorated the house and there wasn't money for an expensive trip.

Still, as much as they loved the house and their lives in Pittsburgh, they needed a break from it all. Brian needed to rest and he wouldn’t do that here. Here he'd only think about things, think about Kenneth, have the Hyperion fiasco rubbed in his face. Justin knew that was one reason why work had suddenly become a chore for someone who loved to work. Having to watch Ryder run the Afibrinase campaign from the sidelines had to be hard. Especially since they were running with Brian's ideas. The night they'd seen the Afibrinase ad on TV, Brian had gone into his study and stayed in there for five or more minutes, seething, Justin had known. He'd let him be, left him alone, hard as it had been to do so.

The other reason life wasn't as pleasurable as it had been was Brian's continued inability to remember what had happened in Birmingham. Despite Drew's best efforts, he remained in the dark. There were dreams; Justin had been awakened on more than one occasion by Brian tossing and turning, maybe remembering something that had happened, he wasn't sure. Neither one of them was sure. He wished he could tell Brian to forget about it, to let it go, but he couldn't. Better than anyone, he knew the price of suppressing memories. He'd been there when Brian had begun to remember what had happened with the Coach. If Brian could be spared that experience this time around, he was all for it.

"I'm thinking about maybe taking another couple weeks off at the end of the summer," Brian said. "Not much going on at work. They don't need me."

"They do need you. Hyperion isn't the firm's only client."

"Just the one with the biggest advertising budget."

"I know that it sucks but there's nothing you can do."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Then let it go."

"Easy to say."

"Well," Justin said, giving him back his own advice, "you won't know until you get your narrow ass off the couch and try," and he popped him on the butt.

"Ow," drawled Brian, letting Justin know that he was more than a little turned on by the blow.

Interpreting the intonation correctly, Justin slapped his ass twice rapidly, leaving faint pink handprints, one on each cheek. Brian wriggled a little as it stung but he didn't attempt to stop Justin or to escape. Which meant he wanted more. And Justin intended to satisfy his desire.

The sound of his hand smacking Brian's buttocks resounded in the room as he gave him three, four, five blows in quick succession. His face hidden in his folded arms, Brian winced. Justin had rather large hands and they were strong. These were no love pats he was delivering although he delivered them with love. After the last one, Brian screwed up his face. His ass was burning.

Gently, Justin leaned over and kissed the top of each cheek. His kisses felt cool to Brian's warm skin and the man relaxed giving him his opportunity. Continuing his kissing, Justin parted Brian's cheeks and made his way to the crevice. His tongue slipped between the tender buttocks and licked its way down towards Brian's rosy core.

"Oh, Baby…" He felt as if he were a winding path down which Justin was wandering.

 

They'd been on the road for a half hour and had been pretty quiet for the most part, a condition Brian knew couldn't last forever. Justin was a habitual talker. Sure enough:

"Gus was really excited to see Leo."

"I just hope the Munchers can keep him inside. I don't want to go back to the breeder for another one."

"Expensive?" He knew Leo had cost a good deal, he'd gone online and looked at the prices breeders were charging. Yikes.

"She'd kill me. He was the best of the litter. I had to swear not to let him outdoors before she'd even sell him to me," Brian explained. "I guess I didn't look responsible enough."

Justin fretted a little. In less than six months he'd fallen hopelessly in love with Leo. If anything happened to him, he'd be devastated. Gus too; and Brian, he suspected. "They'll be careful," he said, more to reassure himself than Brian.

"Mmm."

Another of Brian's articulate grunts. Justin had grown to know them all and the various things each one meant and didn't mean. This one meant, "There's no point in worrying now." And he was right. They were on their way to the inn and he was excited by the prospect of spending two nights and days alone in the country with his husband. Even Brian seemed excited, or as excited as he would ever admit to being. He'd gotten a lot better about showing his emotions but every now and again he locked down and it took some doing to get him to open up. He'd been in lock-down mode for a while, ever since the incident in Birmingham and no matter how much Justin had gotten him to confess, he knew there was a lot more that Brian hadn't told him, wouldn't tell him probably without a lot of prodding. This weekend was Justin's way of gently applying pressure to his spouse.

Brian knew that as well and fully anticipated having to spend the weekend dealing with their marital issues. They were doing great, better than they'd expected but Kenneth had dealt them a blow that they were still reeling from. They'd absorbed the shock and gone on as best they could but their relationship had been tested, maybe even damaged except that they'd so far refused to admit the possibility. He took note of a road sign. "Half hour to go," he announced.

"Good. I'm starving."

"You're always—"

"I didn't have lunch."

"Why not?"

"Too excited."

Brian smirked. "Kids."

"I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-years-old."

"Wow. Really?"

"Don't hate me cause you're—"

"Don't even think it."

"Or?"

"Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else I'll take you over my knee, little boy."

"Exactly how bad would I have to be to get spanked?" After spanking Brian the other night, he'd been itching for Brian to reciprocate the favor.

"Keep pushing it," he warned.

Justin laughed and the sound filled the inside of the car like sunshine, brightening the evening as if it were noon instead of seven thirty. Trying his best to frown, Brian ended up laughing too. Pleased, Justin leaned over and smooched him. "You love me?"

"Maybe."

Justin kissed him again, momentarily distracting Brian from driving to kiss him upon the lips. "Love me?" he asked again.

"Yeah," Brian confessed. "I do."

"Good." Added quite unnecessarily, "Cause I love you too."

Amused by Justin's satisfaction, Brian chuckled. "You're good for me, you know that?"

"That's why I married you."

"Felt sorry for me?"

Justin studied his partner. "Couldn't do without you." 

 

Having checked into and out of half a dozen hotels on their trip to Europe, they were old pros and had settled into their rooms by the time their prearranged dinner arrived. Dinner at eight, that's what Brian had told them on the telephone and that's what he expected. They did not disappoint. Deciding not to dress for dinner, the two vacationers met the waiter still in their traveling clothes. While Brian tipped the guy, Justin opened a window to let in the breeze. The cabin was air conditioned but he wanted to enjoy the fresh country air while he could. After opening the window he put on some music, the second Rufus Wainwright CD, Poses. He couldn't wait for the new one to be released in September.

 _"Cigarettes and chocolate milk/ Those are just a couple of my cravings…"_ 1

There were fresh green beans and roasted herb chicken with a pomegranate sauce; hot buttered rolls that melted in their mouths and cool salads of baby greens tossed with a simple vinaigrette that didn't compete with the pomegranate sauce so much as complimented it. The wine was crisp and tasted of apples.

"To us," Justin toasted.

"To us."

"I really love being here," Justin said. This was their third trip to the inn and each time they left feeling more attached to it than before.

"Be nice to have a place like this, in the country or at the beach."

Justin's eyes widened. "Future plans?" he asked.

"Maybe." Brian shrugged. "Especially if we have any more kids."

"Don't you mean when?"

"Yeah." Another sip of wine. "I went to see Lindz the other day."

"Talk about having another child?"

"Mostly." Tore open a roll and chewed on one half. When he was finished, he added, "Talked about Kenneth."

After waiting a bit, Justin asked, "What about him?"

Another shrug. Held the second half of his roll in his hand. Forgotten for the moment. "Not so much him as me, I guess."

"I know you want to remember what happened and I want you to remember but maybe… maybe it's better if you don't."

"And then what? Go through the same shit as I did with the Coach? I don't want to go through that again."

Which had been Justin's fear as well. "I don't want you to either. But there's no point in trying to force it. And there's no point in beating yourself up because you can't remember."

"So I'm stuck."

"No. Maybe just… be patient. Maybe it'll come to you."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We move on. We can't spend our lives living in fear of what you might remember."

"I don't know what would be worse: remembering that he raped me or remembering that he didn't." That was the truth. It's probably what kept him from remembering, if the Doc was right.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. It matters."

"Why? If he raped you, then what? What are you gonna do?"

"I don't—"

"And if he didn't, so what? So you slept with him. Brian—I don't care."

"That's not true."

"It is true. I don't care. I don't." He reached for Brian's hand. "You and me, we're for always. No matter what. I can't live without you anymore. That's not an option."

"So I do whatever I want and you put up with it?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, I'm not a little boy anymore. We've both made mistakes, big ones. But that's no reason to break up a marriage. That's no reason to throw away everything that we have." He laughed. "Now, if it keeps happening, I'm gonna put you in a chastity belt when you go away on business."

Brian laughed too, the image too ridiculous to take seriously.

"But I love you. I trust you to do what's right."

The weight of that responsibility burdened him. "That's a lot to handle."

"Too bad. It's what you signed up for when you married me."

Brian nodded and returned to his meal, there being nothing more to say. Justin was right. He had agreed to all those things and more when they'd married.

They finished the rest of their meal in relative silence, talking of inconsequential things like the food itself, staying away from anything personal. When they were done, they sat for a moment at the table, unsure of what to do next, afraid that they'd disturb the quiet.

Justin, beginning to doubt if he'd said the right thing, spoke. "Brian—"

But he was not given an opportunity to finish. Brian rose, took him in his arms, and kissed him tenderly. "Don't ever leave me."

"Never," Justin promised.

"And don't ever let me off easy."

"I won't." 

 

Brian was kissing his neck and that sensation warred with the feel of his cock which was planted firmly up Justin's backside. He was seated on Brian's lap, facing away from him, head thrown back and throat bared to his husband's kisses. Thighs parted, he moaned as Brian stroked him from the tip of his penis to the tips of his nipples. He threw his arm over Brian's shoulders and shuddered as Brian closed his lips around his nipple and sucked it. "Oh."

Letting go, Brian said, "Don't come yet."

"I…"

"Just a little longer, Baby."

With Brian's hands around his waist, he clamped down on his spouse's cock and rode him, not touching his own but even so his balls began to throb. "I can't… I'm… I—I—"

His tongue flickered up Justin's throat as his fingers did the same to the young artist's dick setting off a series of spasms that shook Justin's entire body. He yelped and came, cum spraying his chest, his belly, the floor, the bedspread, and Brian's thighs and fist.

Brian wrapped his arms around him and held him firm while his own cock throbbed, a miracle since he was so hard he thought his dick had ossified. Jerking two, three times hard, he came inside Justin, cock sliding through his spunk. They'd dispensed with condoms, having decided that there was no point. They'd fucked without them by mistake and if he were going to give Justin anything, that one time would have been enough. So they'd gone back to fucking raw and didn't think about the consequences. It was too late for that.

They remained joined for a while and then Justin, having regained strength in his legs and having felt Brian begin to soften, stood and sighed as Brian slipped out of him. He laid on the bed, on his stomach, the cool air from the open window blowing over his buttocks. Brian reached for the wet towel and cleaned them both, then curled around his partner to sleep.

 

"I remember when you wouldn't even hold my hand," Justin told Brian as they walked hand-in-hand through the woods.

"You had sweaty palms," he joked.

Bumping him, Justin replied, "Who wouldn't around you? You always made me nervous."

"Why?"

"I always felt like I was doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing. I kept thinking if only I could figure out the magic word, you'd love me."

"It wasn't you."

"I know that now. But back then… I was… I was just a kid. And I was so in love with you I couldn't see straight."

Brian shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder why the fuck you bothered."

"Because you were everything I thought I wanted."

"Kids," Brian said disparagingly.

"And you were." Justin raised Brian's hand and kissed his knuckles. "More than I ever imagined."

"I still can't believe that I met you the same night Gus was born."

"What do you think that meant?"

"That you were both babies."

"Shut up." They walked for a bit in silence, then he asked, "So Lindz say when she wanted to have the new baby?"

"Said she wanted Gus to be a little older. I'm guessing sometime after he turns four, maybe five. A new kid would be easier to deal with if Gus were in school full-time."

"Maybe he could spend more time with us."

"Maybe."

Justin slid his arms around Brian's waist. "I love him so much, even if I never had a child of my own, it'd be okay."

"Well, you are Daddy Jusin."

"I wonder if he'll always feel that way."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Cause kids change."

"Not Gus."

Justin laughed. "Probably not. He's like you. Set in his ways."

"You mean he's a Pitt bull like you." Teased Justin. "A Pitt bull of love."

"I believe in holding on to my man," he said, laughing, and then tripped over a root and tumbled down, nearly taking Brian with him. Immediately, he knew something was wrong.

"You okay?" Brian knelt down next to him.

"I think I might have twisted my ankle."

"Can you walk on it?"

"Yeah. Just a little twinge, that's all." He stood with Brian's help.

"Maybe we ought to head back and have some lunch," Brian suggested and they walked back to the cabin slower than they'd left it.

For a while it seemed as if Justin might have escaped with just a slight twist but after a few hours his ankle began to swell and they both knew that he'd probably sprained it.

"I think we should get it x-rayed," said Brian, gingerly touching the swollen flesh. Upon hearing Justin's sharp intake of breath, he amended his statement. "We're getting it x-rayed." Dialing the front desk, he got the directions to the nearest hospital, then shepherded Justin into the Jeep despite his protests. "Be quiet and read the directions."

"I can't do both," Justin pointed out quite reasonably but after Brian cut his eyes at him, he settled down and did navigator duties without complaint. 

 

He fucking hated hospitals, no matter what the circumstances. Especially hated them after Justin's stay in the hospital. Hated the secrecy, the way they whisked away your loved ones and left you to seethe, to imagine the worst. And he had after Justin had been attacked. He'd sat out in that hallway and imagined a life without him and had found that he couldn’t breathe. By the time Jennifer had come out to tell them Justin was stable if not out of the woods yet, he'd thought that he'd lost his mind. This time the situation was a lot less dire but he felt only marginally less jumpy. So many fuckin' horror stories about people going into the hospital for a broken leg and dying because they'd been given the wrong medication or been operated on by mistake. Urban legends mostly but there was maybe some truth to a few of the tales. Maybe.

When Justin finally came out with crutches and a gel cast on his foot and ankle, Brian could have sung "The Hallelujah Chorus". Kissing him on the forehead, he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah. Gotta wear this for a week though," he replied glumly. Seven days in a cast, even a gel cast, was no fun. Especially with crutches. Good thing he'd probably be out of it next weekend when Gus was supposed to visit because no way could he run after a toddler wearing that freakin' thing.

"Let's go. We've still got the afternoon and evening left." They'd missed their berth on the balloon however as it had left two hours ago while they were sitting in the waiting room.

"And what am I supposed to do in this?"

"You'll see." 

 

The muscles in his thighs trembled as the razor followed the curve of his scrotum. His chest rose and fell in time to Brian's strokes. Upwards, then downwards, smoothly removing lather and hair. His balls done, Brian turned to the creases between his thighs and groin. Followed the trail of wispy hair that led to his anus. When he was done, he wet a cloth in a basin of water and wiped his lover clean. Justin's cock twitched drawing attention to itself.

Smiling slyly, Brian took it in hand and rubbed his stubbled chin over the tip, around the head. The bristles gently scored the flesh. His tongue darted out. Justin gasped as he was licked. Brian's chin had accidentally touched his newly shaved balls. Hearing Justin's reaction, Brian repeated the motion, purposely this time. Justin shuddered and then uttered a small cry as Brian began sucking his scrotum. Mouth full of Justin's balls, Brian abandoned himself to his feast. Grew hungrier and devoured his cock as well.

Back arched and legs spread, Justin moaned as he was consumed. There was no inch of his cock or curve of his balls that had not been sucked, licked, kissed, and touched by Brian. His cock was tugged, pulled, stretched, as were his balls until they felt as if they would swell beyond the confines of his sac. Saliva coated his skin, soaked the pubes that had escaped razoring, ran down around his balls to wet his hole.

Leaving his groin, Brian raised Justin's legs and followed the path of his spit, tongue tracing the line of Justin's perineum until it came to the knotted hole that marked its destination. It fluttered around the circumference, sampled the folds, and then probed the center, begging entry to the warmth behind the tight ring.

Arms over his head, fists clutched around the spread below him. Justin writhed as Brian fed on his ass, grunting as his husband eased past the tight muscle of his sphincter and tongued the inner rim of his hole. "Fuck," he whispered head turning from side to side. "Fuck me. Please."

Brian rose and pushed him back further on the bed. Knelt over him and stroked his own cock with lubed fingers. When he was finished, he thrust two of them up Justin's ass and worked him until he was wet and relaxed. Removed his fingers and lifted Justin's legs to his shoulder. He barely felt the added weight of the cast. Cock hard against a soft opening, he pushed.

They fucked for what seemed like an hour, Brian thrusting into him slowly at first and then faster, faster, building up speed, working harder even though Justin's hole put up less resistance. Put up no resistance. Began to swell yet open wider to accommodate Brian's cock which continued to thicken.

Pausing, Brian let Justin's legs slide from his shoulders, then leaned over and kissed him, lips penetrating one another's mouth as his cock had penetrated Justin's ass. Remaining in that position, with his lover's legs around his waist, Brian began to fuck him once more. Justin could feel his legs beginning to cramp but he didn't care. All he wanted was for Brian's dick to keep sliding into him, keep stretching his hole, keep banging into his prostate, keep filling him up, keep driving him crazy. Mouth open, spittle flecking his chin, Justin held onto his husband's shoulders as they jerked on the bed. Brian's back was wet with sweat but he tried to hold on, pressing his fingers into his flesh, gripping his waist with his right leg, the left one having slid down from the weight and awkwardness of the gel cast.

Still they fucked. Justin's cock was caught between his belly and Brian's, sliding through sweat and precum. The head was a fiery red, swollen to its fullest girth; as was the shaft, which rubbed over Brian's abs, the skin on his stomach flushed from the contact. Justin didn't think he could hold out much longer. His balls were aching and not just from being pressed up against Brian's thrashing body. He wanted to come. He wanted to shower Brian with his jizz. He wanted to grip Brian's cock so tight in his ass that he screamed, that he never forgot what it was like to fuck him, that he never wanted to be inside anyone else. That thought triggered his orgasm. With a guttural cry he shot his load, cum surging from his cockhead. His juice was quickly spread by their heaving bodies, staining their chests and bellies.

Brian, caught in the grip of Justin's ass as he climaxed, hurtled headlong into his own orgasm, burying his face in his spouse's neck and shouting as he dropped his load. Even after he was down to a dribble, he kept pumping against Justin, loving the slippery feel of his hole as it slid over his cock. 

 

When dinner arrived with candles and wine, Brian managed to throw on a robe and answer the door. Justin merely pulled the covers up over his waist and hoped that the waiter didn't notice the spicy smell of sex that permeated the air. They hadn't had the window open for fear of someone hearing them fucking. Brian was brazen enough for it but Justin had put his foot down. Enough people had eavesdropped on them as is.

The waiter came in and said nothing, only smiled and sneezed as he set up the table and then waited for Brian to sign the bill and hand it over. Justin turned red, wishing they had opened the window—as the breeze might have doused the heat in his cheeks as well as dispersed the aroma of sex—and hating the fact that he was so fair and so easily embarrassed.

Once the guy was gone, Brian poured the wine while Justin got into his robe and hobbled over to the table using one crutch. He handed Justin a glass after he'd settled down and offered a toast. "To my Baby, the best lay in the whole, wide world."

Justin couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head. "How romantic."

"Think I should write a line of greeting cards?"

"Maybe you should leave that to Maya Angelou," he suggested.

"How about this? 'To the Worst Fuck Ever. Have a great day/ no thanks for the lay,' " said Brian and Justin giggled. " 'I wish you best of luck/ and hope you learn to fuck.' "

"Stop it." He wiped his eyes and tried to sip his wine, snorted, and spilled it down the front of his chest. Before he could wipe it away, Brian had left his chair, leaned over him, and licked the wine from his skin. Licked up his neck. His chin. They kissed and Justin whispered, "You can fuck me anytime."

"Counting on it."

Later, after having eaten a delicious meal, they lay in bed, listening to music, and watched the sky darken and the stars come out in between kisses.

"I love you."

"Love you too."

"I don't want to go back."

"Have to."

"You're a partner. Can't you just call and say you're extending your vacation?"

"Yeah, and they could tell me to take a hike and extend it forever. I'm not the most popular partner in the firm these days," he admitted although it burned him to say so. There'd been a time, not so long ago, when he'd been the company's golden boy, could do no wrong. Now, it seemed as if nothing he did was right. That wasn't exactly the truth. He'd fucked up with Kenneth, that was certain; otherwise, his work was impeccable, as always. It only felt as if he was slumming.

Justin knew what was on his mind and kissed his bare shoulder. "It'll pass. You'll get some hot new account and wow everybody just like you always do. You'll see."

As Justin had once done, he asked, "You never stop believing in me, do you?"

And as he'd answered, Justin now replied, "You never give me a reason to."

 

Lindz opened the door to find Brian outside and Justin sitting in the car. "You can't come in for a minute?" she asked while Gus clamored to get up into Brian's arms.

"Justin sprained his ankle this weekend. He should get home, put it up." Brian kissed Gus and then let him go so the toddler could run over to the car and see his other daddy.

"Is it serious?"

Brian came inside the house and called Leo who came running. "Has to wear a gel cast for a week." Rubbed the cat's head. "Did you have fun?"

"He and Gus ran around nonstop. I got tired just watching them." She found his carrier and Brian loaded him into it while she gathered up the rest of his belongings. They walked out to the Jeep together. "Justin, are you okay?"

"Yeah." Gus was seated in his lap. "Feel stupid, that's all. Tripped over a tree root." Shook his head. "Dumb."

Gus pointed to Justin's foot. "What dat?"

"A cast."

"What dat?"

"I hurt my foot so I have to wear it until my foot gets better."

Mouth open, Gus tried to assimilate the information. When he got a boo-boo on his finger or his knee, Mommy put a Band-Aid on it and kissed it and made it better. Sometimes Daddy kissed it too. He looked up at Justin. "Boo-boo?"

"Yep, a big boo-boo."

Gus looked over at Brian who had gotten into the Jeep. "Daddy!"

"What?"

He pointed to Justin's foot. "Boo-boo."

"Yeah."

"Kiss it."

Brian smiled. "How about I kiss you instead?" and he did.

Gus giggled and said, "Daddy Jusin."

So Brian kissed Justin too. "All better?"

"All better," he assured him.

Having watched the proceedings with interest, Gus approved and clapped his hands before going to Lindz. He waved bye-bye to Leo and to his daddies. "Nite nite." 

 

While Justin rested, Brian busied himself with emptying and putting away their bags and then preparing dinner. Nothing fancy, just a couple of steaks they'd left to thaw in the refrigerator before going away. A simple tossed salad. They ate by the pool, Justin stretched out on one of the chaise lounges, Brian in a chair on the other side of the small table they shared.

"You know," Justin said, gazing around at the back yard, "this isn't bad either. I'm glad we came home after all."

He was especially glad later on as they made love. Nothing beat being cradled in Brian's arms as they lay under the silk canopy of their bed. Even if it meant having Leo watch them from the toy chest, it was worth it just to feel his own pillow beneath his head. To inhale their scent on the linens. To look around and know where everything was, how everything fit together. How they fit together. To encircle Brian's waist as they fell asleep and know that they were both where they needed to be. He kissed a spot just below Brian's shoulder blade and whispered, "I love you," and closed his eyes.

 

Running his fingers over the ivory comforter covering a canopied cast iron bed with a filigreed headboard and foot board, Justin asked, "What about something like this?" He loved the way the linens' vine pattern echoed the shape of the bed's design. Very romantic.

"The bed or the comforter?"

"Both?"

Brian smirked. "You asking me or telling me?"

"Both."

This time he laughed outright. "It's Italian at least." A little girlish but what the hell. He didn't have to sleep in it.

"What about two?"

"Beds?"

"Yeah."

"There's room."

Justin hated to ask but he knew that he had to. "What about our budget?"

"You mean we have one?"

"If it's too much, then we can keep looking."

"It's not too much," Brian assured him. "I swear."

Studying him, Justin said, "I don't think you'd tell me even if it were."

"We're partners, remember? 'til death do us part and all that? I wouldn’t lie about our finances."

"So we're okay?"

"Well, if you'd take a look at our bank statements or our investment reports, you'd know."

"You mean your bank statements and your investment reports."

"No, I mean ours." He glanced at the nightstand next to the bed. "I don't really like that one."

Taking a look, Justin agreed. "Let's find something else."

Just as they were about to turn away, a saleswoman appeared. "May I be of assistance?" she asked.

"We're browsing," Brian told her and before she could retreat, disappointed by his answer, he added, "And we want that bed. Two of them actually. Full sized. Bedding too. Thanks." Leaving her stunned, he and Justin sauntered on to look at nightstands. He really hoped she got her act together and started working on their order because he wanted to be out of there within the hour. That's about how long Justin lasted on the crutches before needing a substantial break.

In the end they purchased an armoire; a nightstand; and a round backed armchair with a matching ottoman, covered in a moss green chenille fabric that would pick up the greens in the Tuscan mural. They still needed a coffee table, maybe a writing desk and chair, blanket chest, but those could wait until another day. Right now they were on a mission to find lamps and a couple of area rugs. Justin couldn't believe that Brian had agreed on the slightly feminine looking distressed and painted furniture but when he asked him about it, Brian shrugged and said, "Molly'll like it." That was an understatement. Molly would love it. He couldn't wait for her to visit and see the new room. She'd demand to stay for the weekend on the spot.

But not this weekend. Even if the furniture arrived, they'd have their hands full with Gus. Especially since Justin was still kind of unsteady on his feet. The cast would be off by then but he wasn't confident that he'd be one hundred percent recovered. It had been a very humbling experience. And, at the same time, very hot. He and Brian had spent the entire weekend fucking their brains out and he fully expected to spend the week doing the same thing.

Brian had come home early from work and they'd had dinner and gone out to do a little shopping. Now that he'd painted the mural, they were both anxious to complete the room. But before they'd gone out, they'd spent about twenty minutes on the couch making out. With their shopping expedition over, Justin figured they'd go home and finish what they'd started. 

 

He wasn't wrong. And afterwards he took off his gel cast and Brian helped him into the shower where he leaned up against the wall while Brian washed him from head to toe, sharing soft kisses until Brian had to kneel and his lips moved out of reach. They were both more than a little excited by the time they'd finished but luckily they were also rather tired.

As Leo watched from the toy chest, they crawled into bed and cut off the bedside lamps. Playtime was over. Taking his customary place next to Brian, the cat began to purr.

 

Since work was a bust with the cast, Justin spent all week at home fretting over not being able to get around the way he was used to doing and trying to concentrate on his art. But it was hard to focus on his drawing when there were so many other things to do like going online and trying to find additional pieces for the guestroom; waiting for the furniture they'd bought to arrive; playing with Leo; lounging by the pool.

On Wednesday he saw Rachel as he went to get the mail and she invited him over for a lunch that lasted most of the afternoon since neither one of them had anything else pressing to do.

"I feel kind of useless," he confessed to her.

"Why?"

"Wandering around the house with nothing to do while Brian's out working."

"You're a student, that's your job."

"Yeah, but I'm out of school for the summer."

"You sprained your ankle. Relax. Enjoy the week off from work."

He sipped his ice tea, eyes dark and thoughtful. "I wouldn't have any of this if it weren't for Brian."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I should do more for him. I don't know."

"Justin, he loves you. You make him happy. I'd bet he'd say that's enough."

"He does," Justin confessed. "He says it all the time. I just wish I believed it."

"You don’t think he means it?"

"No, he does. I just…"

"You're at loose ends. That's all."

"Did you used to work?"

"Oh, I still do. I work from home. I freelance. Computer stuff."

"Must be good."

"I'm the best."

He laughed. "You sound like Brian."

"I like him a lot. You too. And," she added as the dog came over and sniffed them both, "Rusty likes you too."

"Gus loves Rusty."

"You know, anytime you want a babysitter, call me. He's the sweetest thing."

"Nothing like Brian."

"I don't believe that for a minute."

"Well," he admitted, "he has his moments."

"From the sounds coming from your house, he must have a lot of them."

Justin blushed from the roots of his hair down to his chest. "You've heard us?"

"Let's just say, you might want to close your windows." She let him off the hook. "Not us, but the folks on either side of you have been getting an earful."

"Shit."

"And both those ladies gossip." She laughed. "I think it's envy. Brian's pretty hot."

"That he is," Justin said smiling with pride.

"And apparently he's pretty good in bed."

"And out," grinned Justin. They had fucked way too many times all around the house for him to try and pretend otherwise.

"Trust me, if Christopher were that good, I'd be screaming too."

"They heard me scream?" he asked, appalled. "Shit."

"Must have been one of the times you were fucking in the pool."

He covered his face then tried to make the best of it. "Maybe we oughta charge admission."

"Or give lessons," she suggested. 

 

He didn't know if it was the spices or the fact that they'd been separated for nine hours or if there was something about Justin in a cast that turned him on but the moment Brian leaned in and slipped his arm around his lover's waist to kiss him, he wanted him. "Hey, Baby," he whispered as he pecked his cheek.

Justin half-turned and received a second kiss, this time on his lips and wished he'd had his hands free but he was holding a crutch in one and the spatula in the other. Brian had brushed against him and he'd felt a definite bulge of interest that he wanted to investigate further. "Hungry?" he asked, subtext implied, he hoped.

Eyes shining, Brian replied, "Starving."

"The oven?"

"Do it," said Brian, already taking off his jacket and tie. Those went over a stool in the kitchen. As soon as Justin turned off the chicken, Brian whipped the pan into the oven and lifted his little boy in his arms. The crutches fell away.

Fighting the urge to throw Justin down on the nearest soft surface and fuck like animals, Brian carried him to their bedroom and laid him on the comforter. Watched as Justin stripped, then finished undressing himself. Dropped to his knees between Justin's legs and kissed his way up from his ankles (at least the uncovered one) to his crotch. Bestowing a kiss upon the young man's cock, Brian continued up his belly and chest, lapping his nipples until they stiffened. He left a trail of kisses from Justin's calves to his throat. Their lips met and they kissed until Justin thought he'd pass out. Not only was Brian kissing him but he was stroking his cock as well and it was responding to his talented fingers, throbbing and thickening in his hand. Brian broke off their kiss and went down on him, drawing an involuntary cry from Justin's lips as he sucked his dick. Justin leaned back on the bed, struggling to breathe because with each pull on his cock, Brian was stealing the air from his lungs.

Mouth wet with saliva, Brian continued to devour his lover's meat. He was starving for a taste of his juice and increased his efforts, squeezing his balls as he blew him until the first surge of precum flowed across his tongue. He withdrew Justin's cock from his mouth and smeared his lips with honey, licking the dripping head, kissing it, rubbing it across his face.

Justin gripped the back of Brian's head, fingers entwined in his hair, and tugged on it to get his attention. Brian looked up, Justin's cock still half in his mouth and the sight took Justin's breath away all over again. But Brian understood.

He slid into Justin with ease, having slathered on lube and fingered the young artist until he beat the bed with his fists. 

 

The chicken piccata was delicious considering the chicken had sat in a cold oven while they fucked. Justin had forgotten to turn it on, which was just as well, least it hadn't cooked to the point of being a substitute for shoe leather. As is it finished cooking in the sauce the way he'd intended and was better than he'd expected. Continuing their lovemaking at the table, they moved into a different phase of seduction, contenting themselves with feeding one another and kissing away the stray bit of sauce, sharing sips of wine. After kissing very deeply for a few moments, Justin pulled away and laughed breathlessly.

"What?"

"I had lunch with Rachel today and it seems as if our neighbors have heard us fucking."

Brian laughed. "No shit?" Raised a brow, amused by the news. "Add them to the list."

"She also said the ladies all think you're a hottie."

"That's cause I am."

"And all mine," Justin warned him.

"Don't worry. I'm not about to go prowling in this neighborhood. Too straight." Added, "Or go prowling at all. I've got a pretty hot husband myself."

Wiping his mouth, Justin smiled, got up and moved to Brian's lap. Kissed him hard. "How about we leave the dishes until later."

Brian rubbed noses with him. "And smart too."

 

Their furniture arrived Friday morning just as Justin was finishing a sketch he'd started the previous day. Using only one crutch, he went to answer the door figuring it'd be the delivery guys from the showroom. He couldn’t wait until this afternoon when he went to get his ankle checked and the cast removed. Although he'd been tempted to stop using the crutches and stop wearing the cast, the thought of maybe having to wear it another week always kept him on the straight and narrow. He hadn't even driven with the cast, even though it was on his left foot and theoretically he could have. He'd taken it easy, just as the doctor had ordered.

Within a half hour the guestroom furniture was up the stairs, set up, and put in place for which Justin gave them a hefty tip. Thanking them for their work, he shut the door and hurried to the phone.

"Yeah?"

"The furniture's here."

"How's it look?"

"Fabulous."

"Sweet. I gotta go, Baby. Meeting in five minutes."

"Okay."

"Is Joanie still coming to take you to the doctor's?"

"Should be here around three."

"Talk to you later."

"Later." Hanging up, he went back upstairs, Leo trailing him, and surveyed the guest room. The colors complimented the mural perfectly. It really was a pretty amazing room now. They still needed some curtains and accessories but Joanie would help them with those things. 

Looking around the room, Joanie exclaimed, "Justin, it's wonderful. I can't believe you two did this yourselves." She'd made the bed with Justin's help since he hadn't been capable of doing it himself in the cast. At least not quickly.

"Thanks. But we still need some help filling it in. It definitely looks a little bare."

"We'll find some curtains and a few vases, maybe a nice trunk to go at the foot of the bed—"

"That's exactly what we thought. And a writing table."

"Maybe a chaise lounge." Taking another look, she beamed. "I love it."

"Well, you're welcome to come and stay in it whenever you want."

"I may just take you up on that." Finding her purse, she asked, "Are you ready to go?"

"I can't wait to get this thing off my leg."

Going before him, she said, "I suppose the first thing you're going to do is to go out dancing."

He laughed as he carefully made his way down the stairs. "That's not a bad idea. Except Gus is coming over tonight to spend the weekend. Brian's picking him up after work. Hey, why don't you stay for dinner?"

"It has been a while since I've seen Gus. All right, but only if you let me cook."

"I've got a better idea. I'll cook and you look for stuff online for the guestroom." 

 

Panic set in as Brian drove up to the house and saw Joanie's car still in the yard. She wouldn’t have been there if everything had gone all right with Justin's doctor visit. Grabbing Gus, Brian hurried through the back door and was just about to call Justin's name when he heard him singing in the kitchen. Gus wriggled and he put him down so he could run over to Justin for a hug and a kiss.

"The cast is gone," Brian said with relief.

Justin and Gus exchanged kisses. "Yeah. Your mom decided to stay for dinner. She's in there looking at curtains for the guestroom."

"Nana?" asked Gus.

"Yeah," Justin replied and put him down so he could go running in to her.

"Nana!" he yelled as he ran into the family room.

"I thought he'd never leave," said Brian. They kissed. "So everything's okay?"

"I don't feel a thing."

Brian took hold of his hand and laid it on his groin. "Nothing?"

"Behave." Justin gave him a squeeze. "Mmm, nice."

"After we get rid of Joanie and put the munchkin to sleep."

"You got it."

"Gonna get it." Hearing Gus coming back towards them, they parted reluctantly.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?" Brian took off his coat.

"Eat?"

"Soon as I finish cooking, Gus," Justin told him.

"Come on. Help me take my stuff upstairs," Brian suggested and he handed Gus his jacket. The toddler made sure it didn't drag on the floor as he walked in front of his daddy. Brian smiled, proud of the little boy.

Gus watched him as he changed clothes. Held out his hand. "I want."

"What?"

He pointed to Brian's tie and laughed as Brian tied it around his neck. Wanting to show it to Nana and Daddy Justin, he left Brian in the closet and hurried back downstairs.

Even though they had company and had to play nice while Joanie was there, Brian intended to nevertheless kick things up a notch. Sliding on a black thong, he poured himself into a pair of well-worn jeans that molded themselves to his thighs and emphasized his basket. Slipped on his black wife-beater. Flexed the muscles in his arms. Justin would be drooling the moment he glided into the room.

He hadn't overestimated the effect his outfit would have on his mate. All during dinner he could feel Justin's eyes on him whenever he reached for something on the table or got up. And after dinner, once they'd cleaned up, he sat on the couch, legs spread, and watched Justin fidget.

Normally Justin was very attentive when Gus was talking but tonight Gus could have done a fire eating act and Justin wouldn't have noticed. He was enamored of his husband's lean physique. Even when Joanie tried to show them what she'd found online, he stole glances at Brian. God, he couldn’t believe how hot he looked tonight. All Justin could think about was his legs and ass, his arms and chest, and his cock. Mmm, his cock… He could practically see it through the thin crotch of those sexy jeans. Front and center and looking like it was ready to burst through his fly.

He checked his watch again, surreptitiously he hoped, and wondered when Joanie was going to leave. Not that they'd be home free. Gus had yet to even hint that he was ready to do anything but run around until midnight. Still, once Joanie was gone, they could work on Gus. But even Joanie seemed to be in it for the long haul.

Brian thought he'd lose it and laugh himself silly. Justin was about to jump him witnesses or not. Turning the fire up under him just a bit, Brian stood and sauntered across the room and when he was out of Joanie's sight line but directly in Justin's, he adjusted his package.

Joanie leaned forward. "Justin? Are you all right?"

"Yeah." His voice had cracked and he cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Well," she said, "I think it's time for me to go home."

"Nana," complained Gus. He didn't want her to go. He'd been sitting in her lap and watching TV, Leo lying next to her on the sofa.

"I'll see you tomorrow maybe," she said. "Okay?"

" 'kay." He was used to hearing the word tomorrow.

"Walk Nana to the door."

Nearly sighing in relief, Justin walked with them and waved as she drove away. Meanwhile Brian had gone around and begun checking the doors so they could set the alarm and turn in for the night. He met them at the foot of the stairs and picked Gus up. "Come on, it's time for your bath."

"Leo bath."

"No, Leo doesn't need a bath." He sniffed Gus and wrinkled his nose. "But you do."

Gus giggled and sniffed Brian. "Daddy need bath."

"And he's going to take one. After you go to sleep," said Justin.

Which proved easier said than done. After taking his bath, Gus insisted on playing in their room because he wasn't sleepy, he and Leo tearing around the master suite until Justin was tempted to banish them to his room. Brian, meanwhile, had stretched out on the bed, providing a temptation of another kind.

Finally, Gus began to show signs of slowing down. Seated on the floor, pushing his car over the rug, he started to nod until at last sleep overtook him and he laid down. Justin scooped him up, careful not to wake him, and put him to bed. Practically ran back to his room and quietly shut the door. Brian was lying right where he'd left him. The television had been turned off and in its place soft music played. He made himself walk to the bed. Stripped. He climbed onto the bed, started at the foot, and crawled up on top of Brian.

"Hey," said Brian, voice low and smooth.

"Hey." They kissed deeply for a moment, then parted. Justin rose and held out his hand. It was taken. They came together and danced, arms about one another, softly kissing. Slowly, Justin began unbuttoning Brian's jeans. When the last button was undone, he slipped his hand inside. Felt Brian's warm flank which the thong did not cover. He eased the jeans down. Brian stepped out of them and they continued to dance and kiss.

Moving around back of Brian, Justin swayed with him, hands roaming his body, sliding up under his tank top, down over his hips and thighs. He raised Brian's shirt and kissed his back, his shoulders. Pulled the wife beater over his head and tossed it. Teased his nipples. Ran his nails over his abdomen. Over his cock which was still inside the thong he wore. Justin remedied that. Reached in and pulled Brian out of it. Only his balls remained covered. As they danced, Justin stroked Brian until his cock stiffened. Pushing down on it, he let go and it bounced in front of Brian. He pressed down again and stroked him. Let go.

Brian gasped as his cock struck his belly. Precum wet his skin. He could feel Justin's cock pressing against his thighs.

Justin took hold of Brian again and smiled as his fingers encountered the slick tip. He loved how quickly Brian got juicy. Loved the feel of precum as his hand slide up and down his shaft. Loved the taste of it. Moving around front of Brian, Justin knelt and pulled down his thong, releasing him completely. Then, face upraised, he stroked Brian's dick, waiting, waiting. There. A bead appeared at the tip of his cock. Patiently he waited. Played with Brian's balls. The bead became a teardrop. Stretched until a clear line had formed. Justin caught it on his tongue, then turned his head to the right. The line bisected his face on an angle from his cheek to his forehead.

Brian grew harder as he watched Justin play with his precum, face shiny and streaked. Then, apparently wanting more, Justin gobbled up his cock. Most of it disappeared into his mouth and he hummed as he sucked and licked the throbbing shaft. Brian could feel his cock head expanding, growing more sensitive and he hissed and withdrew after it brushed the roof of Justin's mouth. But Justin wouldn't give up. Grabbed him by the base of his cock and attacked the head again. Brian shouted as Justin nipped the edge of the corona, the tip.

Having submitted to Justin's mauling until his dick was nearly raw, Brian pulled Justin up and bent him over the toy chest. Cock lubed, he mounted him and rode him hard. Held onto one of the bedposts to steady himself as he plowed his partner's ass. Justin gripped the chest. His cock bounced in front of him from the force of Brian's thrusts. Precum landed on the top of the trunk like the loops and swirls of a Jackson Pollock painting. He grimaced as Brian repaid every nip and bite. Creating something beautiful was sometimes hard.

 

They knelt together in the grass and he offered the little boy a basil leaf. "Smell." Gus did so and wrinkled his nose. Giggled and tried to take the leaf from Justin to eat but Justin knew better. "I have to cook it first. Okay?"

" 'kay."

"You hold the basket and make sure none of the leaves fall out."

"Leeves?" Gus looked around for leafs like the ones he'd collected the previous fall.

Justin showed him the basil again. "This is a leaf."

"Yeah," said Gus, agreeing although the little green thing didn't look anything like the bright red, yellow, and orange leaves he'd gathered in his basket last year.

For the next fifteen minutes Gus helped Justin harvest herbs from the garden and Justin couldn't believe how patient Gus was watching him as he selected the matured leaves, how interested he was in growing things. Eyes wide, he absorbed every detail and did exactly what Justin asked him to do, even watering Leo's catnip when he was told. When he went inside the first thing he did after handing Justin his basket was to find Brian and tell him all about the garden; then he sat at the coffee table and drew green leaves on a sheet of paper.

"Maybe I was wrong about him being an architect," Brian said, observing him at work. "Maybe he'll be a farmer."

"Or a botanist," suggested Justin, washing the herbs and drying them, setting them aside until he was ready to use them in the meal he was preparing. "An underwater botanist," he said, "since he loves the water so much."

"Speaking of which, you want to go for a swim later?"

"With or without swimsuits?" meaning with Gus or later after he'd gone to sleep.

"Both."

Justin shook his head in disbelief. "Don't you ever get enough?"

"No such thing," Brian assured him with a kiss and Justin had to agree. 

 

Justin picked up a wooden figure, painted white and black. "What's this?" When Gus didn't answer, he added, "It says, 'baa baa'," and Gus brightened up.

"Seep."

"Sh-eep." Justin pronounced both syllables slowly.

"Sheeeep." He took hold of the toy animal and pranced it around the floor. "Baa baa."

Holding up another animal, Justin asked, "What's this?"

Tearing himself away from the sheep, Gus laughed. "Ruff ruff."

"That's right, that's the sound it makes. What's it called?"

"Rusty!"

His turn to laugh, Justin made one more try. "And what's Rusty?"

"A dog!" Gus shouted so loudly Leo jumped even though he was sitting next to Brian on the sofa. He took the dog from Justin. "I want see Rusty."

"Maybe we'll see him tomorrow."

But Gus was not placated. "Now!" It had become his favorite word.

From where he sat, Brian looked up and caught Gus' eye. "What are you yelling about?"

The little boy began to play again with the figure of a dog. He pouted a little. "I want see Rusty."

"What did Justin tell you?"

Gus pretended not to have heard Brian.

"Gus, what did Justin tell you about seeing Rusty?"

"Tomorrow," he said softly.

"Then no more yelling." Brian watched as Gus put the dog down. "Okay?"

" 'kay."

"Let me see your dog."

Instantly happier, Gus picked up the dog and carried it to Brian. "See?"

"I see."

"Rusty."

Brian kissed him. "Dog."

"Dog." Leaving the toy with Brian, Gus ran back to Justin and hugged him. Then picked up another toy. "What dat?"

"I'm supposed to ask you the questions," Justin laughed and Gus began to giggle.

 

Brian was sitting in his office wondering if there was anything he could do to convince Ryder to let him take over Hyperion's accounts again. No matter how much work he had to do, it seemed as if it wasn't enough to make up for losing control of the Afibrinase campaign. Nothing was as challenging, as rewarding and he suspected that, despite Justin's predictions, nothing else would ever be again. So what am I going to do? He'd always loved his job. What would he do if that changed? If it became a chore to come to work? How would he continue to function in the company if he no longer felt a desire to be part of the firm?

Thoughts like that frightened him. He was about to take a walk to clear his head when he decided to check his email. The trolls were becoming less and less of a problem as he stopped responding to them and as the word got out that he was happily married. Still, every now and then one came along that made him laugh and he could use a laugh today.

_Hey,_

_I was working on this drawing of the backyard and I started to think about you and I couldn't stop so I decided to send you this email. I know you're probably busy but you don't have to read all of it at once. You can read a little bit and then come back to it when you've got the time. It's not like it's anything important. Just the same old same old: I love you. I need you. I want you. You've heard me say all of those things a million times. Probably gets boring: me telling you that I love you, but I do. Probably seems like something a kid would do, sending a love letter. But then again, I'm only twenty so it fits. And you're my husband so it's allowed. So here goes: I love you._

_I also wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you. When I think about how far we've come from how we used to be, it amazes me. But it shouldn’t because I think you're amazing. I know it hasn't been easy, having me as a lover. I know that you've had to put up with a lot of shit from my parents and yours and your friends and the people at work. And me. I know that maybe it would have been easier for you to have been with someone else. Someone older, someone you could turn to, someone who could help you. I try the best that I know how but I don't always know what to say or do. Sometimes all I know to do is to love you. And I do._

_Do you remember when we were in Tuscany and we went walking by that old farmhouse, the one you took the pictures of? Do you remember how you said that it seemed like it had been there forever? That no matter who was in charge in Florence, or Siena, or wherever, this place had survived. I want us to be like that. No matter what, I want us to last forever. I don't care how many times other people try to come between us, try to destroy what we have, we won't let them. We'll survive._

_I guess I should go now and finish my drawing and let you get back to work. See you when you get home._

_Love,  
Justin _

A snatch of a song came to him and he hummed it, taking the quiche out of the oven to let it rest and cool just a bit. Brian would be home soon and Justin wondered what he'd say about the impromptu letter he'd written. In hindsight he felt a little foolish, gushing like that but he couldn't help how he felt. He loved Brian, loved their life. Still…

He was about to get out the plates and flatware to set the table when he heard the Jeep in the driveway. For some strange reason his heart started to pound and he suddenly began to feel anxious. In an attempt to quiet those feelings, he went to set the table. Like Jennifer, he found routine tasks calming. As he distributed the knives and forks, he heard the door open and shut. Heard Brian troop through the kitchen and near him. He wouldn’t turn or look around. Laid the last plate down. There was no reason to delay their greeting any further so he turned. In Brian's hand was a bouquet of deep red, long-stemmed roses. Almost of their own accord his fingers reached for the flowers. Brian leaned towards him and kissed him as he surrendered the roses.

"I love you," Brian whispered. Shyly, Justin smiled and studied the roses. Brian smiled too, then said, "We need candles. And wine."

"And a vase," Justin said, having untangled his voice from his beating heart. "These are beautiful."

"Nothing compared to you," and they kissed again.

Dinner was a romantic affair, room lights lowered and candles flickering on the table, flames reflected in the stemware.

Brian gazed at his husband over the rim of his glass. His eyes looked like mossy agates.

Justin had gone silent. When Brian looked at him like that it was hard to think much less speak.

"That was a pretty intense letter you sent me." Put his glass down. "Something going on?"

Shook his head. "I was just… thinking about you."

"I'd been thinking about you too," Brian admitted. "About what you said. About some hot, new account coming along…"

"Something came up?"

"No." Smiled wistfully. "I was sitting in my office feeling a little sorry for myself. Maybe a lot sorry for myself. And I was thinking about what you said and trying to convince myself that it was true…"

"Did you?"

"Not until I got your letter. And then… it didn't seem to matter anymore. Whatever happens happens. As long as I have you, I could give a fuck about everything else."

Taking their glasses outside, they walked for a bit around the yard and then stretched out on the double chaise and watched the stars take to the stage one by one and named them.

"That one's Larry."

"And that's Curly and Moe," Brian guessed.

"No. For Larry Kramer."

"Oh. I guess that one's Harvey then?" he hazarded, thinking he'd discovered a pattern.

"Yep. And that's Mike."

"Mike?" So much for his pattern.

"Short for Michelangelo."

"Ah…" Now he got it. "That one's Oscar."

"And that's Hadrian."

"With Antinous next to him."

"Right where he belongs. And that one's Jake."

"Jake?" He didn't know any famous gay person named Jake.

"I just like that name."

That was Justin all right. Just when you thought you understood his reasoning, he switched logic systems altogether. "Maybe we'll have another boy and we can name him Jake."

"Jake and Gus. Good butch names," said Justin, which was what Brian had said about the name Gus when he'd suggested it the night the baby had been born. "You think Gus will be okay with a new brother or sister?"

"What? Having someone to boss around?"

"That's you not Gus."

"He'll be a great big brother."

Justin snuggled closer to Brian even though it would have already been difficult to find an inch of free space between them. "The best."

Pointing to a star overhead, Brian said, "We should call that one Justin." It was the brightest object in the heavens.

Eyes twinkling, Justin laughed, the sound like a meteor shower. "I think that's Sirius." 

 

**Songs:**

"Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" by Rufus Wainwright from Poses, Rock and Roll Credit Card Music/Dreamworks Songs (ASCAP), 2001.


	3. Joie de Vivre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin host a dinner for the firm's partners; celebrate their six month anniversary; and throw a party for Gus' third birthday.

He was all too aware that his friends were seated behind them about six rows back, far enough away that he couldn’t understand what they were saying but close enough that he knew they were talking about him and Justin. Why he had agreed to this farce, he had no idea. Actually, he knew exactly why he'd agreed to a movie night with the guys: Justin wanted to do it and he was rapidly coming to the understanding that there was very little Justin might ask of him that he wouldn't at least try to do. Justin wanted a Fourth of July pool party and he went out and bought steaks. Justin wanted to see Pirates of the Caribbean with their friends and he duly called up Mikey and relayed the invitation.

What Justin would ask of him next was anyone's guess. He supposed his friends thought him p-whipped (penis-whipped) and if he were being brutally honest with himself he would admit that he was. So what if he was? They were both happy, happier than they'd ever been in their lives and he, for one, was content to play the part of the besotted husband as long as he and Justin could take leisurely, naked swims in the pool; or hold hands while walking in the park; or French kiss in the movies.

They parted after the latest of such kisses for a breather and to take stock of the audience. Having gotten to the theatre obscenely early on Justin's advice—which turned out to be a Godsend—he and Justin had scoped out seats in the row of six seats that separated the middle section from the upper one. Each pair of seats was equidistant from the others making for a semi-private refuge among the great unwashed. The guys had wanted to appropriate the other seats in the row but Brian had given them the eye and they'd kept climbing, eventually occupying four seats in the very last row of the theatre. Justin hadn't argued, he had been too happy that Brian had agreed to coming out with them at all. Especially to do something as pedestrian as going to the movies. To see a Disney movie at that. But it starred Johnny Depp who was hot enough to get all of them out of their homes and into the theatre. Even if he was looking rather unhygienic.

Digging into the bucket of popcorn he'd bought, Justin fortified himself for another kiss. Despite being in public, they'd behaved as if they were in the privacy of their own bedroom. Then again, maybe not. At home they would have already progressed to undressing and he would have probably been on his back by now with Brian blowing him. That thought made him fidget in his seat. Maybe they should have gone to a porno flick. He giggled around a kernel of popcorn. In a few months he was sure there'd be a Butt Pirates of the Caribbean out on the porn circuit.

Brian raised a brow. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing."

"Jeesh," he said, shaking his head, "and the movie hasn’t even started yet."

"Wish we could have brought Gus," said Justin, trying to deflect attention from himself.

"Well, the Munchers said it looked too intense for him. We'll see. If it isn't, we'll bring him later on."

"And he can wear his pirate hat that we got him in the Bahamas."

"Not in this lifetime," Brian snorted and he reached for the popcorn but Justin held it away.

"Say please," he teased and smiled as Brian kissed him softly. 

 

Instead of going back to Liberty Avenue to have a drink at Woody's they decided to stop in a bar near the theatre. Snagged a table near the front and got the waitress' attention. Ordered a round of beers and talked about the movie.

"Was it just me," Emmett asked, "or was Johnny a little swishy?"

"Little?" said Ted. "That's like saying someone is a little pregnant."

"Preggers," Mikey corrected him.

At Justin's confused look, Em supplied the reference. "Heathers before Winona picked up her little shoplifting habit."

"I think Will and Jack Sparrow would have made a much better couple than him and the chick from Bend 'Em Like Beckham," Jeff opined.

"I'd like to be bent under Beckham," Emmett added with a raised brow.

"Definitely hot," Justin said in agreement. Brian nudged him and Justin assured him, "I didn't say he was hotter than you."

"Besides, I don't think Posh is letting go of him anytime soon," Michael said.

Justin took a sip of beer. "I could take him away from her." The guys laughed at his confidence.

"He's yours all right," Ted said as Brian shook his head.

"Outta my hands," Brian declared and stood looking for the bathrooms. Spotted them and strolled across the floor when a voice stopped him.

"Brian?"

He turned towards the voice, thinking that he knew who it was, vaguely. Wasn't really sure but… Peered at a face that was rapidly coming into focus in his memory. "Brendan." His cousin. Shit. Of all the fucking luck.

"Never saw you here before." He was sitting in a booth in a group of four: him and another guy and two women, presumably their dates.

"Never been in here before."

"You here alone?"

"No."

Brendan laughed. "That's Brian for you, never used two words when one would do. Definitely not your typical Irishman." He gestured towards the table. "Have a drink with us."

"I was just heading for the john."

"When you come back then."

He jerked his head towards the front of the bar. "Got friends waiting."

"But I'm family, Brian. And we haven't seen each other since when? Uncle Jack's funeral."

"Yeah." It was driving him crazy to go through this farce. He and Brendan had never been close, never been more than distant relations who tolerated one another. Why the fuck did he suddenly want to play nice? He was so focused on figuring out Brendan's motives that he didn't realize Justin had come over. Touched his arm.

"Hey."

Brian half-turned. "Hey." Paused. "Justin, this is my cousin, Brendan. Brendan, Justin." As Justin removed his hand from Brian's arm, Brendan spotted the ring on his finger. And realized that Brian wore an identical one. Brian could see the thought run through his head, could see the exact moment that it dawned on him what that meant. "Justin's my partner," he said unnecessarily.

Brendan looked uneasy. In fact, everyone at the table looked uncomfortable as if they'd collectively committed a terrible social faux pas.

Brian was quiet for a moment, then said, "See you around."

Without looking up at him, Brendan replied, "Yeah."

He continued to the restroom, Justin trailing him.

"I…"

Shook his head. "Forget it."

But the guys noticed something was wrong the moment they returned to the table. And they'd seen him talking to Brendan.

"Who was that?" asked Mikey.

"Brendan."

"Your asshole cousin, Brendan?"

"Same one."

Em made a face. "So I guess you've been outed, huh?"

"I'm sure Jack Kinney is turning in his grave." Brian raised his glass of lukewarm beer. "Cheers." Drank it down. 

 

He'd gone out onto the pergola to smoke the moment they'd returned home. Aware of Justin hovering inside the house, wanting to find out if he was okay, knowing that he probably wasn't. Aware of the fact that he was letting Jack fuckin' Kinney and the Kinney clan get to him when he'd promised himself more than once that he wouldn’t anymore. He wouldn’t have cared except that he'd heard that note of disdain in Brendan's voice, the one Jack had perfected when it had come to him and hearing it he was fourteen again, being told that he was no good, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't not hear it. Couldn't feel that it wasn't true.

Cigarette smoke wove patterns in the air above his head.

They dissipated as Justin opened the French doors and stepped outside. "Bri…?"

He held out an arm and Justin came over and found his place. Brian offered him the last of the cigarette. "Jack loved Brendan. Held him up as a shining example of a fine, upstanding Irish lad. Brendan was an alter boy which meant I had to be an alter boy too. Brendan went to fuckin' Catholic school, so I had to go too—until they realized that I was never meant to be in Catholic school. Brendan dated good, Catholic girls, found the prettiest one to go steady with, got engaged, got married, started working at the plant right out of high school, and started popping out the next generation of Kinneys. Of course, that didn't stop him from being a ladies man, from making the rounds. Like tonight. That was not his wife. But that's okay because he provides for Cathy and the kids so why not let him have a little fun?" As he spoke, his jaw kept getting tighter and tighter until the words had to be pried from his mouth. "And it doesn't matter that you and I are married, that we have a family, that we have a home, that we've done everything they've said is important… that son of a bitch can still look down on us… because we're faggots."

"Brian—"

"I could hear it in his voice. I could hear Jack." A fine shiver went through him and Justin moved even closer to him, cigarette discarded, arms around his waist. Brian laughed, a sound like a mouth full of brackish water, and said, "That's my gold medallion," referring to the movie they'd seen. Will Turner's father had given him a piece of pirate's gold. It was the only thing he'd had of his father's and it turned out to be the key to unlocking the curse of the Black Pearl. Only, in Brian's case, there was no magical medallion that would release him from the curse of the past. Only he could do that. Yet, no matter how many times he'd tried, had thought he'd succeeded, something would happen—like tonight—to remind him that he had not. That, in fact, he was still as inextricably bound to Jack Kinney as he'd always been.

 

 

In the middle of pouring a cup of coffee, Deb spotted a customer coming through the door and almost dropped the pot. "Sunshine. I think this one's for you," she said and Justin turned around.

Craig. Looking very ill at ease and out of place in a Brooks Brothers suit. Business drag, Brian called it. Usually he was the only person in Woody's in corporate garb. Spotting Justin, Craig made a bee line for him.

"Hi, Dad."

"Justin." Found an empty booth. Sequestered it and waited for his son to join him.

But Justin just stood by the side of the table. "I'm still on duty," he explained.

"Don't you get any breaks?" So Justin sat down after catching Deb's eye. "I called your mother and she said you still worked here afternoons."

He put down his order pad and pencil. "You could have called the house. Mom has our number," he said, emphasizing the "our". "And you have my cell phone number, don't you?" he asked, to let Craig off the hook when he saw how uncomfortable his father looked.

"I just wanted to see you. We haven't talked since…" Craig let the sentence trail off, unwilling to discuss the incident at the court house. "Well…"

"So what's up?"

"I got the bill for your tuition the other day."

Justin waited a moment before asking, "You want us to pay it?" meaning Brian since his salary wouldn't begin to cover it.

"Like I said, I wanted to see you." It was a source of pride to him that he paid for Justin's school and not Kinney. Even if it meant spending a sizeable chunk of his income.

"Well," Justin said after a moment, "you've seen me." He started to rise.

"Justin." Craig touched him on the arm but said nothing further.

"Dad, what exactly do you want?"

Deb must have heard the irritation in his voice because she got his attention and gave him a look she'd perfected over the years through her dealings with Mikey and Brian and the guys. It said, Behave.

For his part Craig was grateful for her intervention. These days it seemed as if he couldn't find the right thing to say to Justin. Everything set him off. Assuming what he hoped was a neutral mien and tone of voice, Craig said, "I just wanted to talk."

"Fine," replied Justin. "How about this weekend? You can come over to the house on Saturday and have dinner with us." Craig looked surprised by the offer and, in truth, Justin had surprised himself. However, he was sticking to his guns, testing his father's sincerity.

After a moment, Craig said, "Justin…"

"So much for wanting to talk to me." He left his father at the table and disappeared out back.

Under Deb's disapproving and disappointed glare, Craig crept away. 

 

"I saw my dad today," Justin told Brian as they fixed diner.

"And your ass isn't barbecued. He's slipping."

"Believe me," Justin said softly, "it's singed."

Brian closed his hand over Justin's briefly. "Dead or alive, huh?" he said, referring to his own ongoing war with his father, one that hadn't abated even though Jack had been dead for almost two years now.

"Why do I even fucking care?" Justin asked miserably.

"Because you are who you are." Kissed him. Justin smiled and wrapped his arms around Brian's neck and raised his face for another kiss which Brian bestowed upon him posthaste. "My little boy," Brian continued. "My baby cat."

"Didn't do much scrapping today."

"Yeah, well, I didn't win too many rounds with Jack either, " Brian confessed. "I swear, sometimes I think Mikey was the lucky one, not having an old man at all."

But Justin disagreed. "Gus is the lucky one. He's got you for a dad."

"And you."

"And me."

They went back to preparing dinner, Justin stir frying the veggies Brian had chopped along with some thinly-sliced flank steak. The rice was steaming. Brian went to set the table and returned with Leo in his arms. Despite discouraging the cat's affection (not too strenuously), Leo loved Brian and purred contentedly whenever he was near the ad exec.

"So," asked Brian, "what are we getting Sonny Boy for his birthday?" It was coming up in less than two months.

"Well, he'll be three…" began Justin, knowing that Brian had been champing at the bit to buy him a baby Jeep for two years. Justin turned off the food and slipped the stir fry onto a platter. Brian carried the wine glasses out after putting Gus down.

"Yeah, but he's still too young for the Jeep. I swear, they must have changed the requirements cause this year the manufacturers say four and you know the Munchers. No way would they disagree with the manufacturers. Like they were fuckin' God or something," he mumbled.

Justin laughed under his breath. You'd think they were keeping Brian from buying a toy for himself. They sat down and loaded their plates.

"Well?" Brian asked impatiently. Justin still hadn't answered his question.

"How about one of those My First LeapPad books?"

"What's that?"

Justin finished chewing. "They're these little computers and you buy special books that go with them and they teach kids stuff like ABCs and reading and they can play games. They've got all kinds, I think."

"Hmm. We'll have to check it out."

"Score big points with Lindz if you get some," Justin added, just to sweeten the pot. "Oh, and what about a karaoke machine? He loves to sing."

"Unfortunately, he doesn't sing on key most of the time," complained Brian when, in fact, he was as amused by Gus' singing as the rest of the little boys' parents. "Maybe those Wiggle guys will have a new CD out or something too."

"The Wiggles."

"Whatever." 

 

While Brian worked on some last minute reports for a meeting early the next morning, Justin went for a swim. It was infinitely better in the pool when Brian was there too but he still enjoyed floating beneath the setting sun. He dreaded the weather turning.

As he drifted around the pool, eyes closed, he thought again about his run-in with Craig. Even though he knew the breakdown in communication had been Craig's fault, he couldn't help but feel that he was to blame somehow as well. Brian would say that was an example of the fucked-up kind of thinking parents induced in their kids. _"They blow it and somehow it's your fault. That's bullshit."_ Yet knowing that and not falling into the trap were two very different things. Brian himself still fell prey to it. Witness his reaction to the Brendan episode. And it probably wouldn’t end there. Brian fully expected Joanie to call with a report on the family's outrage at not being told Jack's boy was a fairy and married at that. Why did it matter?

Justin bumped into a wall and reached back, anchoring himself. Came upright in the water and with his arms over the edge, floated in place. If only there were some way to convince his father to try, just a little, to meet them halfway. But Craig insisted on making unreasonable demands. He and Brian weren't going to break up if he had anything to do with it and certainly not because his father disapproved. They'd been through too much for that now. Not only loved each other but had become inseparable.

When his toes threatened to become prunes, he climbed out of the pool and headed for the house, drying off as he walked. Found Brian still at the dining table working. "You got much more to do?"

"Half hour or so."

"I'm going up." Kissed the top of Brian's head and was about to walk away when Brian caught hold of his arm.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Brian held him a little longer, then released him. Turned back to his papers.

As Justin left the family room, Leo uncurled himself from one of the armchairs by the fireplace and dropped to the floor, followed him up the stairs. Halfway to the top, Justin paused and went back down. Brian met him by the fountain.

"Didn't think so," he said and took him in his arms.

 

 

At the entrance to Craig's building, Brian paused, garnering a nasty look from the guy who was walking behind him. Moving out of the way, Brian wondered if he were doing the right thing. After a moment, he returned to the car. This was Craig's decision. There could be no more deals, no more gentlemen's agreements. 

 

Even though his schedule was tight that afternoon, he dropped by the diner to see Justin, pulling him into an empty booth and kissing him for three very long minutes, timed by the diner's denizens, many of whom had received a few—but not nearly enough—of Brian's kisses at one point or another. Usually when he'd been drunk or drugged or pissed at life but never like this. Never loving, passionate, generous. A few left. 

 

Tomorrow evening they'd have Gus so tonight they savored their privacy, having dinner out on the loggia off their bedroom. They brought the mosaic table and chair set upstairs and lit a couple of candles, poured some wine and had pasta in a light cream sauce.

Justin raised his glass. "To us."

"To us."

The view off the loggia was spectacular, looking down as it did on the pristine backyard and the sparkling pool, but neither of them paid any attention to the yard or to the sky which was streaked with red as sunset approached. Somehow Justin's chair had moved closer to Brian's and dinner was forgotten as well as they kissed. Finally they left the remnants of their meal on the table and tumbled off to bed.

 

 

Gus stood behind the storm door and waved goodbye to Brian as he backed up the Jeep. He was going to work for a few hours that afternoon. Normally he wouldn't have if Gus were visiting but he really needed to score some big points with the other partners after the Hyperion debacle. Still, he hated seeing the sad expression on Gus' face as he moved further away from the kitchen door. He waved back at the toddler, then concentrated on driving. Justin would take care of Gus. Sure enough Justin appeared in the doorway just as Brian lost sight of the house.

Justin squatted and hugged Gus. "You want to paint?" Gus shook his head. "Want to ride around the block?" Again, no. "Want to—"

"I want Daddy," Gus said and buried his face in Justin's shirt.

"I know, Gus, he'll be back soon."

"I want go Daddy," he said softly, on the verge of crying Justin could tell.

"Daddy's already gone but he'll be back. I promise. Before you know it." He hugged the little boy again. "We can do something fun, how about that? How about we go see if Rusty is home?" Gus rubbed his face back and forth. No. "Rusty would be so glad to see you."

"No!" he yelled and pulled away from Justin. And began to cry. First a sniffle and then an all out assault on Justin's senses.

Knowing there was no point in trying to placate the toddler, Justin let him cry until the first jag was over and then he picked him up and carried him into the family room and sat him on the sofa. Gus leaned against him and continued to weep, albeit quietly. Finally the tears stopped and he started to get heavy-eyed. It was just the opening Justin needed and he sang him softly to sleep, Gus' small, dark head pillowed against his side.

When he was sure Gus was completely under, he laid him down and left him to rest. Leo had come to see what the fuss was about and spotting Gus on the sofa, joined him.

With thirty minutes at the most to himself, Justin went into his studio and worked on a new drawing. He was trying his hand at landscapes, using the backyard as a model and elaborating on it as he sketched, transforming it into a mini garden of Versailles. Of course, his knowledge of plant material was severely limited so he turned to his imagination, filling the yard with fanciful botanicals that had never existed. Losing himself in his work, he didn't notice when two small figures joined him almost an hour later and stood quietly watching him.

How long they'd been there, he didn't know, but when he finally became aware of them, he looked around to see Gus studying him and his drawing intently. "Did you have a good nap?" Gus nodded, still a little drowsy. Justin held open his arms and the toddler came to him for a hug, remained leaning against him. "Want a snack?"

Softly, "Yeah."

As Gus sat at the table having an apple and some graham crackers and milk, Justin went back into the kitchen and called Brian at work.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"You coming home soon?"

"Why?"

"Gus was a little upset. Cried himself to sleep." He'd hated to say that but it was true. He could hear Brian weighing his options. Then:

"I'll be there in a half hour."

"Finished?"

"No, but there's no point in staying any longer. I'd have to stay another six hours for it to make a difference."

Teasing him, Justin asked, "Is this one of the perks of being a partner?"

"No," replied Brian, "it's one of the curses of having Darren Johnson in my division. See ya."

"Bye." Now that Brian was coming home, Justin went out to see how Gus was doing. Lucky for Leo and the rug that he did. Gus was just about to pour some of his milk onto the floor for Leo to drink. He'd seen how Brian and Justin had given Leo milk when he was much smaller and apparently he was going to do the same. Except his milk was chocolate. "Gus?" He looked up, holding the cup in both hands. "What did we say about giving Leo people food?"

"Milk."

"But it's chocolate milk," Justin explained. "Cats only drink white milk."

Gus processed the information frowning, then put his cup back on the table and climbed into his chair and proceeded to finish eating his snack.

Justin shook his head and tried not to laugh. And they had this to look forward to at least two more times.

After Gus had finished eating his snack, they went out and picked a few herbs from the garden to kill some time and then decided to take a swim. In the pool, they worked on Gus' stroke, Justin trying to get the little boy to coordinate his kicking and arm movements. They'd tackle incorporating his breathing later on. Right now if he could float, kick, and move his arms, they'd be happy. No, ecstatic.

So with Justin standing next to him, his hands down below the water surface just in case he floundered, Gus practiced his floating and kept his head turned to the side to allow him to breathe. "Good, Gus, that's good. Okay, now kick." The little boy started to kick and to move forward. The movement startled him, as it always did, but he quickly recovered and floated around the pool wherever his legs took him. "You're doing great, Gus!"

"You're a good teacher."

Justin jumped and Gus lost his concentration, began to flail about. Quickly Justin went to him and pulled him up out of the water. Not that he would have gone under wearing his floating suit but they didn't want to encourage any panicking, wanted to nip it in the bud as soon as possible. With Gus safely seated on the edge, Justin turned to his guest. "Dad."

Craig took a seat at the table. Looked around. "Thought I'd take you up on your offer."

Wide-eyed, Gus took in every detail of Craig that he could. Then asked Justin, "Who dat?"

"That's my Dad."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, that's my Daddy."

Gus got up and went over to Craig and patted him on the knee. Craig looked lost.

"He wants you to pick him up." Justin tossed Craig a towel.

Awkwardly, Craig dried Gus off, then placed the towel over his lap and picked the toddler up, immediately finding himself enveloped in a hug.

"Nana."

Justin laughed. Gus was very smart. He knew Brian's mom was called Nana and his mom was called Nana Jenn, so it only made sense that Craig would be Nana too. Justin rose and went to them. "Not Nana. Nana's for girls. For Mommies."

"Daddy," Gus decided since both Brian and Justin were Daddy and they were boys like him.

At this Craig looked decidedly uneasy.

"His name is Craig. How about you call him that? Can you say that? Craig?"

"Caig."

"Cr-aig," said Justin.

"Craig."

Justin clapped. "Good boy."

Gus looked up at Craig. "Daddy Craig."

Smiling, Justin added, "Granddaddy Craig."

Gus looked pleased. "Granddaddy Craig."

Despite himself, Craig smiled as well. Seems the littlest Kinney had won over another hapless victim with his charm.

Unfortunately, thought Justin, it's going to be another story when Brian gets home. He knew that he could depend on Brian to try and behave but he had no such confidence in his dad.

When Gus got down from his lap, Craig commented, "He's going to be tall."

"Brian and Lindsay both are." At three feet, Gus was at about half of what they could expect his adult height to be.

Gus tugged on Justin's arm. "Daddy?"

"What?"

"When Daddy come home?"

"He's on his way."

"He calls you Daddy?"

"I am. He's got two mothers and two fathers."

"Lot of parents."

"Lot of love." When they got inside, Justin told Craig to make himself comfortable while they showered. "There's soda, wine, and beer in the fridge there," pointing to the beverage center at the bar.

"Mind if I look around?"

"Go ahead." Taking Gus by the hand, Justin led him upstairs.

Freed from proprieties, Craig wandered around the first floor giving free rein to his curiosity, his surprise, and, sometimes, outright shock. The house surpassed his wildest imaginings. Even driving up to it, he had felt conflicting emotions: pride that his son lived in such a fine neighborhood and dismay because he knew that it was Kinney's money and business that paid for everything. Justin was, in effect, Kinney's trophy wife. A point driven home even more clearly by Justin's taking a hyphenated name, proclaiming to the world his inferior status. That burned. He had raised Justin to be an achiever, to follow in his footsteps in the business world and to surpass him. Instead, Justin had had given up everything to run after Brian.

Who was, at that moment, driving up to the house. Curious as to whose car was in the yard, he called out as soon as he got inside the door. "Justin." When no one answered, he went looking and came face-to-face with Craig, who had been exploring the courtyard and had just come back inside. Brian inclined his head and Craig returned the gesture.

"Change your mind about dinner?" Brian asked.

Instead of answering the question, Craig said, "This is some house."

"Jennifer found it for us. My mom helped decorate."

"Expensive."

Brian shrugged it off. "Justin loves it."

Refusing to believe that the matter was that simple, Craig asked sarcastically, "And what Justin wants, Justin gets?"

"It's why you're here," Brian replied and headed for the family room. After a moment, Craig followed.

Before things could get even more awkward, Justin and Gus returned from their shower, Gus out in front with Leo next to him. Calling out, "Granddaddy! Granddaddy, look." He went over to Craig, who had taken a seat near the fireplace, and said, "Look." Pointed to the cat. "Leo. Leo kit cat."

"His name is Leo?"

"Yeah. Kit cat."

"And he's a kitty cat?"

"Kit cat," Gus repeated and laughed.

"Kit cat," Craig said dutifully.

Gus found one of Leo's toys and tossed it to him and the kitten caught it and began batting it around to Gus' delight.

"I guess I don't get a hug or a hello or anything," said Brian, feigning sadness and disappointment. Gus ran over and held up his arms to be hugged. After he had gone, Justin sidled over for a kiss.

"Hey."

Brian noticed Craig had fixed his attention on Leo and Gus. "Hey."

"Wanna help me with dinner?"

Placing his lips near Justin's ear, he replied, "What's my other choice? Making nice with your dad?"

Justin turned his head and kissed him again. "Thank you."

"Later."

Getting Craig's attention, Justin announced that he and Brian would be starting dinner. "Gus can keep you entertained for a while and the remote's over there if you want to watch a game or something."

In the kitchen, Brian asked, "What are we having?"

"There's steak. My dad likes steak."

"Real meat and potatoes kind of guy, huh?" Bent to take some baking potatoes out of the bin. "He and Jack would have gotten along famously," he said dryly.

"Brian."

He shook off the concern. "Ignore me."

"Can't." Justin touched his elbow. "If you want me to tell him to go…"

"It's your home too." Peeked into the other room. "Besides, Gus actually seems to like him. Go figure."

Justin gave a small smile. "He was really good when I was small. Taught me how to swim." Remembered his dad waiting for ten minutes for him to gather up the courage to get into the pool. "He was so patient."

"Maybe that's where you get it from then," Brian said although he didn't believe it.

They fell silent then, not saying much beyond what was necessary to prepare dinner. Gus ran in once to get his cup, Craig having decided to have a beer while he and Gus watched TV and Gus wanted some juice too so he could be like his Granddaddy.

As Brian watched him return to the family room, he frowned.

"What?"

"I don't know if it's a good thing, Gus getting so attached to him."

"Why not?"

"How long is he gonna be around? Today, tomorrow?"

"So we don't give him a chance at all because he might bail?"

Aware that Lindsay had said pretty much the same thing to him about Justin when they'd gotten together after Justin's bashing, Brian felt a bit hypocritical but he now understood where Lindsay's concern had come from. He never wanted anything or anyone to hurt Gus. He was too special, his spirit too precious to risk. "I'm saying, if Gus gets used to him and then he flakes, then what?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah, that's the problem."

Before their discussion could digress into an argument, Justin finished with the appetizers, a quick spinach dip with tortilla chips. He put everything on a platter and carried it in to the other room. He understood Brian's concerns but there was nothing he could tell him. The last thing he wanted was for Gus to get hurt and he knew that Craig had the potential to hurt him very badly. Surrounded by people who loved him, Gus had never known rejection, never known what it was to lose someone he cared about. Craig was an unknown variable. Justin had thought that after the trial, Craig had begun to come around to accepting he and Brian but the man had proven time and time again to be unreliable when it came to dealing with them. He'd refused to acknowledge their wedding, their commitment to one another. What made them believe that he'd accept Gus, that he'd be there for him when he'd disappointed his own son so many times? Suddenly Justin wanted to rush in and sweep Gus away, keep him safe, but it was too late. Whatever happened now, happened.

As angry as he felt himself becoming, Brian tried to keep a lid on it. He understood why Justin had taken a chance on Craig: how many times had he met his own father in some bar, trying to work through his feelings over a glass of bourbon or beer? And how many times had he failed to come to peace with the fact that Jack was never going to be the father he needed? How many times had he gone to Mikey and cried, or gone out and gotten hammered and fucked some stranger to try and assuage the anger, the disappointment?

Craig looked up as Brian came into the family room, radiating discontent like a cloud of nuclear dust. He'd been having a surprisingly good time with Gus. It'd been so long since Justin had been a child that he'd forgotten how much he'd enjoyed being with someone so young, so new to the world, open to experiences and he realized that maybe part of his anger at Justin came from the fact that Justin no longer needed him to make decisions for him, to advise him. Justin was his own man now. It was hard to let go. Hard to accept that instead of a father, Justin had a husband to turn to. Hard to accept that it was a husband and not a wife.

"Granddaddy." Gus tugged on Craig's leg. "My room."

"He wants you to go see his room," Justin interpreted.

Setting down his almost empty beer bottle on the coaster he'd found, Craig rose. "All right, let's go." Gus took hold of his hand and waited for Leo to join them before taking Craig upstairs to his pride and joy. Once they were there, he showed Craig his bed, and his race car table, and his mural, and his blue armchair where he and Leo sat to read his books. He showed Craig his bookcase full of books, saying, "Pooh" as he held up one of the books, his favorite; opened his toy trunk packed to the brim; and then took him to the window to show him his view of the backyard. "Pool," he said, pointing to it.

"Yes, that's the swimming pool."

"I swim," Gus announced proudly.

"I saw you. You were very good. A very good swimmer."

"Yeah," the toddler replied, a little overcome by the praise. Then he grabbed Craig's hand and took him on a tour of the bathroom and then into the guest room. This was new even for Gus. He'd been in there once but it was still largely an undiscovered country. Running his hand over the comforter, he said, "Pretty. Pretty bed."

"It is pretty."

"White," Gus told him, patting the comforter.

"Come on," Craig said, taking his hand, "let's go back downstairs."

As they went back to the front staircase, Craig glanced at the gym and at the door that led to Brian and Justin's suite. He was curious but cautious, unsure of what he'd find. Finally, curiosity got the best of him and he took a step towards the door. Gus followed, as did Leo. Pushing it open wider, Craig went inside.

It was as he'd expected: more rich, tasteful furnishings. He peeked into Brian's office, inhabited by his chaise lounge and nothing else. Walked through the suite, from the sitting area by the fireplace, to their closet, to the bathroom. In addition to the storage cabinet by the shower, there was another at the end of the room, next to a low counter top. It was open and he glanced inside. They obviously used it as a medicine cabinet. Aspirin, shaving cream, toothpaste. His eye fell upon a tube that he recognized. Lubricant. He turned away, cheeks flushed, embarrassed at having discovered this intimate clue to their private life.

On the verge of going to find Craig and Gus, Justin heard them coming, Gus babbling to his Granddaddy about something very important to an almost three-year-old. Brian was in the kitchen grilling the steaks and he joined him to toss the salad after settling Gus and Craig at the table he'd already set. Gus insisted upon sitting next to Craig which was good as that meant he and Brian could sit on the opposite side with Brian and Craig the farthest from one another. Maybe they'd actually get through this dinner with no blood loss.

Other than both Brian and Justin having to remind Gus to eat and not talk with his mouth full, the meal progressed smoothly, the adults talking about inconsequential things, sticking to harmless topics, and the evening drew to a close just as the toddler's bath time neared.

"Let's go, Gus," Brian told him.

"I want Granddaddy."

"You'll see him again," he said, aware that he was making promises Craig might not be able to keep. "It's time for your bath."

Before he left, Gus went to Craig and demanded a hug. "Nite nite, Granddaddy."

" 'night, Gus," Craig replied with a peck on the cheek. Handed him back to Brian.

Brian said nothing to Craig, just took Gus and went upstairs. Justin would say all that needed to be said. He trusted him.

Having loaded the dishwasher, Justin returned to Craig in the family room. His father was standing at the window, looking out at the backyard. He joined Justin on the sectional. "So what made you change your mind?"

"I'm not a monster, you know."

"I know that—"

"It's been a long time since we've talked."

"You had my number."

"And you had mine."

True enough. "It would have been easier to call you if I'd thought that you wanted to hear from me. If I had thought that you wanted to hear what I had to say."

"So tell me."

Justin paused. "I love my life, Dad, and I love Brian. I know you don't understand. I accept that. But you have to accept the fact that I do. That my place is with him. I have a family of my own, a home, my art."

"Are you happy, Justin?"

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've been saying?"

"You don’t feel like you've missed out on anything?"

"Like what?"

"Like being a normal college student?"

"Living in a cramped dorm room and eating bad cafeteria food?"

Craig laughed then sobered. "And you don't mind, that people think…"

"Think what?"

"That you're his…" He couldn't find the words.

"His partner? His spouse?"

"You live in this house that he pays for and you're twenty-years-old."

"So what?"

"So it looks… it doesn't look good."

"We're married, Dad. This is our home." Still it smarted because he'd done a lot of soul searching himself about his contributions to their household and he sometimes felt as if he didn't do enough despite Brian's protests to the contrary. All this, however, he would not tell Craig. "I love him. That's all he asks of me, all he wants."

Craig seemed to accept that or, at least, not to have any other arguments. There didn't seem to be anything else to say except, "I can't promise you anything."

"I don't want you to. What's the point in making promises you can't keep?" If he had learned nothing else from Brian, he'd absorbed that lesson well.

"We've been apart for so long," Craig admitted, revealing some of the pain he'd felt since he and Justin had become estranged.

Grateful for his father's admission, Justin confessed as well. "I've missed you, Dad."

He nodded, then rose. "Well, I've got to go."

Justin walked him to the door, then hugged him before he left. It was a start. Another start after so many others. He didn't know if this one would prove as false as the others but he was willing to take that chance again. There was little else he could do. He stood at the door as Craig backed out of the yard and wondered if his father would ever set foot in his house again. Locking the door and setting the alarms, he shut off the downstairs lights and climbed the stairs. Found Brian helping Gus with his SpongeBob pajamas. The little boy was good at putting them on, he just hadn't mastered buttons yet. Dressed for bed, Gus decided he wanted to sit in his armchair and read with Leo for a while. The cat jumped up beside him and Gus found his Pooh book and began to tell Leo the story of Pooh and Rabbit.

Justin noticed Gus' leather bear all alone on his bed. Said to Brian, "He used to tell that to Beh."

"Guess he doesn't need him as much as he used to."

Softly, he said, "Guess."

"But he still needs him to keep the bad dreams away."

He still has a place in Gus' life, that's what Brian was trying to tell him. Maybe he and his dad needed to find Craig's place in his life, same as Gus had done with Beh.

Justin stood on his tiptoes and kissed Brian's cheek. "I love you."

"Better. I just spent almost two hours being nice to your old man."

"Did I mention how grateful I was?"

"How grateful?"

He pulled Brian's head down and whispered in his ear. A grin appeared on the older man's face, wide as a sickle moon. 

 

Justin, naked, leaned over the railing of the pergola, wishing there was a little breeze, just enough to ruffle the curtains, but it was a hot, sticky night and they'd have to shut the French doors and rely on the air conditioning to cool them off. Already a bead of sweat ran down his spine. He heard a noise, felt Brian's bare skin against his. Lips kissing his neck, his shoulders, down his back. Brian dropped to his knees and kissed his cheeks, parted them and kissed in between them. Spreading his legs open even wider, Justin licked his lips as Brian licked his hole, tongue flickering over the edges, pressing against the center. He laid his head upon his arms and tried to breathe, to keep silent while Brian rimmed him. The neighbors had already heard them fucking before, no need to provide them with yet another opportunity. He would have told Brian to stop so they could go inside but it felt too good what he was doing with his tongue, his talented tongue, and Justin never wanted him to stop. Christ, he had his tongue inside him, curled the tip so that it caught on the upper rim of his hole, and Justin groaned and then clamped down on the sound.

Rising, Brian leaned over Justin and whispered, "I want to fuck you."

The nakedness of his need caused Justin to shiver. He could feel Brian's cock against his hip, the tip hot and wet. He went down on his knees and down on Brian's dick, sucking him until Brian's toes curled and he gripped Justin's hair in his fists.

Brian pulled him up, away from his cock, and bent him over the rail, positioned his dick, and pushed.

It stung but Justin gritted his teeth and waited for the pain to subside. Which it did. Soon he was panting and swinging his hips backwards to meet Brian's lunges, tightening his hole around Brian's cock.

"Yeah. Yeah, Baby…" Brian thrust into him hard, riding his ass with abandon.

Justin reached back and slapped Brian's hip, urging him on. Fuck me harder, harder.

His fingers pressed into Justin's flesh as he held him in place by his waist and shoulder and endeavored to bury his cock to the hilt in his hole. Deep inside his ass, Brian felt his meat throb and he shuddered and began humping him. He wanted to come. Had to come.

And Justin wanted him to. Wanted Brian to fill his ass with cream, wanted to feel it run out of his hole and down his legs.

They struggled for a few minutes more, Justin's mouth wide open, screaming silently as Brian reamed his ass. Finally he cried out, "Ah! Ah!" He was nearing his own climax. Sometimes it was like that, that he didn't even have to touch himself, that being fucked by Brian was enough, feeling his cock slam into his prostate was enough to bring him off. Brian's dick swelling to its full girth, it rammed Justin's prostate and the young man shouted. Cum surged from his cock and was flung onto the floor of the pergola by the force of Brian's thrusts.

 

 

Although they'd fixed up the guestroom ostensibly for Molly, she had yet to see it. Justin insisted that everything be perfect before they show it to her and to him something was still missing. He wasn't sure what it was but he felt that he'd know it when he saw it. Hence the reason why he and Brian had spent most of the day walking the streets of Pittsburgh, ducking into out of the way shops in search of that one perfect thing.

They'd exhausted the malls and after having failed to find anything in any of the antique stores they'd visited, they made their way back to Liberty Avenue for a late lunch/early supper and to take a half-hearted look in the establishments on the street. They didn't have any hope however, and it was with a listless eye that they stepped inside a very unimposing, windowless store.

"Sebastian's place was a lot better than this," Justin judged just from his initial look around.

"Well…?" Brian replied, implying that they'd be better off finding food than wasting anymore time in this place. He wanted to get away before the proprietor showed up, probably some flaming queen who'd try to sell them fool's gold.

"Guess it won't hurt to take a look," said Justin just as Brian knew he would.

And just as he knew the guy would be, Mary, Queen of Scots, showed up at last, resplendent in a pair of red plaid pants and a hot pink t-shirt. Emmett would have been jealous. "May I help you?" he said with a toss of his blond-maned head.

"We're just looking," Justin told him but the guy stepped towards him anyway and took his arm.

"Tell me what you're looking for," he said conspiratorially as if there were hidden treasures in the shop that they couldn't ferret out for themselves.

Really, to Brian's eye, it looked as if a rainbow had exploded in the place showering it with useless Technicolor junk. There was nothing in here that would fit in the guestroom and nothing that Molly would like unless there was a Rainbow Brite doll stuffed away somewhere.

Still, Justin played nice. "We're looking for something to go in our guestroom."

"What kind of something?"

Reasonable question. Except Justin only had a vague answer. "Something special."

"Well, you're in luck," said Queen Mary, "that's what this place is all about."

Brian had to keep from sneering. _Please._

"It has to be something a little girl would like."

Mary arched a brow, "Oh?" imagining all kinds of scenarios.

"My little sister," Justin clarified.

"Oh," he said and smiled knowingly. "I know all about little girls."

 _Having been one yourself_ , quipped Brian silently.

"And I've got the perfect thing," he promised Justin and steered him in the direction of the rear of the store. Stopped at the counter. "Wait here," he said and disappeared into a backroom.

Brian caught Justin's eye. "Waste of time."

"Be nice."

He was just about to respond when Mary reappeared with a tray on which was a china set. But not just any china set. It featured a beautiful pale green background and was decorated with delicate, hand-painted, pink wild roses. The pot was almost a foot tall, slender, with an ornate handle accented in gold. The four matching cups were about three inches tall and rimmed in gold as well.

Justin reached for one and Brian knew he was lost. In all fairness, the set was quite beautiful. As his partner examined the cup in his hand, Brian asked, "How much?" 

 

Jenn and Molly had accepted their invitation to dinner. They tried to get together once a month to have dinner or hang out, part of Justin's vision of a new millennium extended family. Normally they managed to have Gus over at the same time as he loved Molly but tonight the Munchers had taken Gus to Mel's aunt's house for dinner so it was just the two men and the Taylor women and Daphne, who was endeavoring to spend as much time as possible with her best friend before she had to head back to Princeton.

As usual Molly made it her business to stick pretty close to Brian, helping him with the drinks and the hors d'oeuvres while Justin checked on dinner. Both he and Jennifer hid their grins as Brian coped with his little admirer. Daphne, however, understood how the little girl felt; after all, wasn't she the founding member of the Straight Girls for Brian Kinney Club? God, she still remembered the first time she'd really appreciated him, the day she'd come over to the loft and Justin had given her a tour. Brian had awakened and come out stark naked to find out what was going on. She remembered him kissing her before he left the apartment and calling her, "Darling." He'd been amazing. It made her blush to this day to think about her saying, "He's to die for." But he had been. Still was.

Finally, after they'd finished their appetizers, Brian stood and crooked his finger at Molly.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Without any preamble he said, "To your room."

"My room?"

"Your room," Brian told her and they all went upstairs to the guestroom. Molly stood at the door for a moment, then reached for the handle and turned it slowly. Pushed it open.

"Go on."

Taking a step inside, Molly gazed around her in wonder. It was all so beautiful, from the two full-sized canopied beds to the pretty green chenille chair and ottoman. Best of all was the picture on the wall. "Did you draw that, Justin?"

"Yeah, I did."

"It's pretty."

"Glad you like it. What about the room? Do you like it too?"

She hugged him.

Brian went to the television armoire which was still waiting for a television but he thought there was something in there she'd like even more. He took out the china set and placed it on the chaise lounge.

Jennifer gasped. She had seen the room but she hadn't seen that. "Oh my…" Tapped Molly on the shoulder. "Look."

Turning, Molly's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"It's a chocolate set," Brian explained.

"It's beautiful," Daphne exclaimed.

"And it's very old," added Justin, "so you have to take good care of it, okay?"

Molly ran her fingers over the smooth, sloping sides of the chocolate pot. "Okay." 

 

In the midst of going over the boards Brad had submitted for their new account, Brian didn't hear Ryder knock and was, subsequently, very surprised when Marty spoke.

"Brian?"

"Shit!" he exclaimed. Laughed. "Yeah?"

"Sorry. I thought you heard me knock." Ryder took a seat across from Brian's desk. "It's about the annual partner's dinner party."

Very nearly groaning, Brian had to remind himself that he needed to cultivate their goodwill and refusing to come to the shindig would definitely do that. "When is it?"

"Couple weeks."

"Fine. We'll be there."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Brian tensed. No fucking way would Ryder try to suggest that Justin not come. Not after having been at their wedding.

"It was supposed to be at my house but we've decided to have work done to the kitchen as well as the master suite. Did your mother tell you?"

"Didn't mention it."

"So we're not really able to have guests." Marty paused and Brian waited for him to finish his thought and then he realized what that thought was.

"Ah. Yeah. Guess you want to hold it at our place."

"Well, you do have the room."

Pursing his lips, Brian made a quick decision. "Sure. Why not? Justin's been itching for an excuse to use the dining room. Guess he'll get his wish."

"Thanks, Brian." Mission accomplished, Ryder returned to his own office leaving Brian to wonder how they were going to put together a dinner party for twelve in two weeks. 

 

"You said we'd do it?" Justin asked, disbelief dripping from every syllable.

"Kinda had to."

Justin slouched on the sofa and exhaled. "Two weeks?"

"Yep."

"Did you call Derek and Hansel?" the guys at The Zoo, who had catered their wedding and housewarming.

"They said it was kinda tight but they'd see what they could do. And if they couldn't swing it, they had the name of another company they could recommend."

"Two weeks."

"It's just a dinner party."

"For twelve."

"We planned a wedding. For thirty."

"But we had over a month."

"And we managed to buy a house and decorate it at the same time. And you were working and going to school. We can do this."

Justin looked peeved. "Of course, we can do it. I didn't say we couldn't."

Deciding it was to his advantage not to get in an argument, Brian dropped that topic of conversation.

"When are Derek and Hansel getting back to you?" Now that he'd reconciled himself to the fact that they were having the dinner party, Justin wanted to get down to details.

"Thursday."

"What about the menu? Any ideas?"

"I don't know what the partners like."

"Can you at least find out what they don't like?"

"I'll have Cynthia call their secretaries. They'll know."

Abruptly, Justin got up and headed for the dining room. "We don't have any formal linens," he said over his shoulder as Brian was left perplexed. And wondering how much this dinner was going to cost him.

Having cut on the lights, Justin tried to take stock of the things they'd need. Luckily the company and Kenneth had supplied services for ten but they were having ten guests. He went back to the family room to find a pad of paper and a pencil. "We need to get two more place settings," he told Brian.

"Two place settings."

Back in the dining room, Justin wrote down "Place settings-2," on his pad of paper and "linens: tablecloth and 12 napkins/placemats." They also needed flowers for the centerpiece and maybe some candles. So those went down on the list as well. Thanks to their trip to Italy and Joanie, the room didn't look as bare as it might have. There were carnivale masks on the wall as well as the Venetian mirror they'd had shipped over, and a Murano glass vase on the table. Sebastian's gift of the sterling silver tea service graced the top of the credenza and the topiary cake slice had a place on one of the shelves of the plate displayer that still looked a little empty. Maybe he could find some inexpensive pieces to fill them in.

After the dining room, he took a walk through the livingroom and decided that it was perfect as is. Brian would be happy to hear that. He knew that the exec was probably sitting on the couch dreading how much he'd be expected to fork over for this event.

"So?" Brian asked when he returned.

"The place settings, some linens, flowers for the centerpiece, some candles, a candleholder, and maybe some display pieces for the credenza."

"Don't go crazy, okay?" Brian requested as he handed over a credit card.

Justin smooched him on the lips. " 'kay."

"But it has to look fabulous," teased Brian and Justin, as expected, pushed him. 

 

Over the next week Justin went out hunting for the items on his list, sometimes with Daphne or Joanie, other times alone or, when he could drag him along, Brian.

On one such expedition, Daphne turned to him in the middle of an antique shop and asked, "So what are you wearing?"

The question floored him. He'd been so focused on getting the house ready that he hadn't given any thought to himself. "Shit."

"Guess we're going shopping huh?"

"I don't know what to get," he confessed. "I mean, I don't know if its black tie or what."

"Probably not that formal. Why don’t you call Brian and find out?" she suggested quite reasonably.

Justin checked his watch. Brian would have come back from lunch by now, if he'd gone out at all.

"Brian Kinney's office, this is Cynthia speaking."

"Hi, Cynthia, is Brian in?"

"Justin, hey. Hold on, I'll put you through. This about the party?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"You'll do great. The wedding was amazing."

"Thanks, Cynthia."

"All right, here he is."

She put him through and he heard Brian pick up. "Hey."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Is this black tie or what?" When Brian didn't answer right away, he asked, "Brian?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'll check with Ryder."

"Now?"

"Is it vital that I do it now?"

Justin didn’t reply, decided to let his silence answer Brian's question.

"Hold on."

Justin waited while Brian switched to a second line and dialed Marty. Making faces at Daphne, he took a second look at a compote dish that had caught his eye. Only he couldn’t think of a reason why they'd need a compote dish. Brian came back on the line.

"Jacket and tie, but not black tie."

"Like the division party that year."

"God," groaned Brian, "just when I'd forgotten about that. Thank you oh so much."

"See you later."

"Later, Baby."

Daphne had picked up a crystal decanter. "So?"

"Dressy but not black tie. Thank God."

Putting the decanter down, she asked, "What about music?"

Justin frowned then took out his pad and pencil and wrote himself another note. 

 

"So DJ Twist said he'd make us a CD for the party," he told Brian, who was in the closet changing clothes.

"It's not a party. Trust me, there will be nothing to celebrate," Brian replied, coming in wearing a pair of skin-tight sweats cut off mid-thigh, a jockstrap, his socks and tennis shoes, and nothing else. The material molded itself to his body, emphasizing the perfect shape of his buttocks.

His ass might not have been as bountiful as Justin's but it was beautiful nevertheless and his partner appreciated the shorts. Sliding his arms around Brian's waist, Justin cupped his behind. "Mmm… nice. What's the occasion?"

"It's hot." He removed Justin's arms from around him. "And I'm going for a run."

"Treadmill?"

"Neighborhood."

"Not dressed like that, you aren't."

"Excuse me?"

Justin went into the closet and found one of Brian's tank tops. Handed it to him.

"You've got to be kidding."

"You want me to put it on you?"

Grumbling, Brian slipped the top on. "When did you start acting like a husband?"

"The moment I said, 'I do.' " He smacked Brian on the butt. "Bye-bye." 

 

As if planning the dinner party wasn't enough, Justin asked, "What about Gus' birthday party? What's our theme?"

Brian looked over at him in disbelief. They were lying in bed trying to summon either the energy to make love or the self-control to forget about it and get some much needed sleep. For Brian's part, sleep was winning. At least until Justin brought up Gus' birthday party. "O-kay. Think about it. What's his most favorite show in the entire universe?"

"SpongeBob SquarePants."

"Bingo," said Brian, clicking his tongue for added emphasis.

Justin's eyes lit up. "This is going to be so cool. We can build Bikini Bottom on the bottom of the pool and maybe get an inflatable SpongeBob and Patrick. A SpongeBob cake. Balloons and sand pails and maybe some sand—"

"No sand. Where the fuck would we put it and how would we get rid of it when we were done?"

"We could build a sandbox. Gus needs a sandbox."

"He's got one at the Munchers'."

"He should have one here."

Brian challenged him. "You gonna build it?"

"I could."

"So butch."

Justin nudged him. "Shut. Up."

"And bossy too."

Giving him another nudge, Justin climbed over on top of Brian.

"Baby—I'm exhausted."

"I'll make sure you get it up," the young artist promised.

"That's not the problem. Keeping it up is."

"Trust me, that's not a problem," he assured Brian as he kissed down his chest. Upon reaching his briefs, he yanked them down in the front and kissed the head of Brian's cock. Pulled the briefs off and tossed them aside, then straddled Brian's hips. Began to ease down his own briefs. Brian growled and grabbed him, pulled him on top of him and kissed him hungrily. Already he had begun to feel a stirring. Yeah… 

 

Watching Brian put the new occasional table in place in the guest room, Joanie asked, "Has Molly seen this yet?"

"Thought we'd never get rid of her." Then he added, "We're planning on inviting her over here for Gus' birthday. Spend the weekend and hang out with him. According to Lindz, the baby books say he can have three kids his own age at his party but he's still not too good about playing with kids his own age so…"

"What about John and Peter?"

"Possibility." He wouldn't commit to it, not when it came to his family.

"They are his cousins, he should get to know them better."

"Like I got to know mine?" From the way she looked aside, he knew she'd gotten a call from Brendan's mother. "So what did she say?"

Hesitating, she said, "That Brendan saw you in some bar. With Justin."

"And?" There was more, there always was with the Kinneys.

"And that you introduced Justin as your partner."

There was more. Something hurtful, something she didn't want to say. "And?"

"And nothing," she replied and began to straighten the comforter on the bed even though it didn't need straightening.

"Mom?"

"What difference does it make what she said?"

He snickered. "Fuck 'em, huh?"

"Well…" Joanie touched the back of her neck, a habit he'd inadvertently picked up from her, only he tended to scratch the nape of his neck whereas she was content with just a touch.

"You know," he said, "Brendan was there with one of his ladies. Cathy knows what he does, his mom knows what he does, everybody fuckin' knows, but that's okay. I was there with my husband, and he and his friends looked at us like we were something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe. And that was okay too."

"Not everyone's like that."

"So we should show up at the next Kinney family reunion?"

She laughed this time. Touched her neck. "Maybe… not yet."

He felt his jaw tighten, wished Justin were here to make it okay. "Maybe not ever," he said softly.

"Do you really care?" she asked, not convinced that he did. After all, Brian never cared two cents for any of the Kinneys. She couldn't imagine that he'd begun to after all these years.

"No," he answered. He didn't care what the Kinney clan thought of him on the whole, he only cared what one member thought and that one was the one person whose approval he could never gain, not now. Not with Jack lying dead in his grave. 

 

"Table looks great," said Justin, looking into the guestroom briefly before heading back downstairs to see to dinner.

"Yeah."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Got anything for me to chop?"

Letting it go for a moment that Brian hadn't answered his question, Justin answered his. "Nope. Still got vegetables left from yesterday."

Nodding, he turned to go into the family room.

"Brian?" Justin left the kitchen and walked with him. They sat down together on the couch by the fireplace. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"What's wrong?"

"Justin—"

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Because there's no point." Brian started to stand, then decided to remain seated. "There's nothing to talk about. Nothing that we haven't talked to death, that the Doc and I haven't talked to death—I'm sick of talking about it. I'm sick…" Covered his mouth briefly. "I'm sick of caring what a dead man thinks of me."

"He would be proud of you."

"He would be proud of the fact that his son was a partner in a firm, that he had this house, and lived in this neighborhood. That's not the same as being proud of me. His son was this… this image that I sold him. Same way that I sold cereal, and tampons, and fuckin' toilet paper."

"Except," argued Justin, "you're more than that. More than he ever knew. And that's his loss."

"Then why do I feel the way that I do?"

Justin almost laughed. Leave it to Brian to overlook the most obvious thing. Or maybe it was the most hurtful thing, the one thing he didn't want to have to think about. "Because you loved him."

He wanted to deny it except that Justin would know it was a lie. So he said nothing, just reached for his lover's hand and held it. 

 

Brian never thought he'd be happy to sit through a dinner party but, by the time Saturday arrived, he was aching to get it over with so he'd never have to hear another word about it. Or have to buy anything else for it. You'd think he'd financed a small ad campaign from the amount of money they'd spent on the evening. Everything had better go off without a hitch. Of course, he couldn't imagine that it would.

Already Justin had awakened with a list of things in his head to do before that evening. Instead of drafting him to help with the last minute cleaning, Brian had let him go off on his errands. Now he busied himself with cleaning the master bathroom—not that it needed much. Although the guests would use the bathroom downstairs, he didn't know if they'd want a tour of the house. Probably. Most people did. Granted, it was a very beautiful house and they were proud of it so they didn't really mind.

After he cleaned their bathroom and made sure their room was immaculate, he turned to Gus' room and did a perfunctory once-over as no one expected kids' rooms to be spotless. Or neat. Gus' was okay. His bathroom was fine, everything in its place, no mildew stains on the shower door.

Heading downstairs, Brian went over the guest bathroom by the kitchen, scrubbing the floor and cleaning the mirror, the toilet. He laughed to himself, remembering how much he'd hated housework as a kid. But once he'd become a homeowner himself, his attitude had changed. He remembered yelling at Justin the time he came home to the loft to find Justin's crap all over the apartment and Justin dancing to Moby. Remembered saying, _"This isn't a hotel room and you're not on your Blonde Ambition tour."_ Chuckled. God, in those days anything Justin did was liable to set him off. How they'd survived to make to this day, he'd never know. He guessed miracles did happen. 

T-minus fifteen minutes and counting. The caterers had arrived. Hansel and Derek hadn't let them down, had found a way to squeeze them into their busy schedule and both Brian and Justin's mouths watered each time they caught scent of the buttery aroma coming from the kitchen. That is when Justin wasn't spritzing the flowers on the dining table or when Brian wasn't counting the bottles of wine to make sure they had enough. Finally, when they were both satisfied, they met in the reception hall and stood at a loss.

Brian glanced at the Turner prints on the wall. "We need some chairs out here," he said when he realized that they still had about ten minutes to wait.

"Maybe we could move the game table and chairs from the family room." They never used them. Their friends, when they came over, appropriated the sofa and chairs in the two main seating areas of the family room. The game table and chairs were closer to the gallery hallway entrance and were hardly sat in.

With ten minutes to spare, they moved the designated furniture out to the reception hall, placing one chair on the wall between the family room and the hallway and the other between the entrances to the dining room and living room. They put the table next to that chair as there was more room. "That's better," declared Brian and he promptly sat down in one.

Justin, feeling he needed a rest, sat in the other across the hall.

They looked at one another.

Hazel eyes met blue.

And Justin rose and went to Brian and sat on his lap.

"Much better," said the ad exec. "I was getting lonely."

"Can't have that." They kissed.

"Nervous?"

"Little."

"It'll be—"

"A piece of cake?" Justin asked hopefully.

"Not exactly," Brian replied. "There are a couple of real hard-asses among the partners. But the only one you really have to impress is Searle. Get his approval and the rest can go to hell."

"He's the one to watch, huh?"

"See which way the wind blows," said Brian, remembering what Jeff had said about him. The doorbell rang interrupting a second kiss. Both took a deep breath. "Show time."

"You sure I look okay?" They'd both opted for dark suits with white shirts, nothing too fancy. The only differences in their outfits were the cuts of the suits and the fact that he wore a deep blue tie and Brian had chosen a charcoal grey one. "I feel like I'm playing dress-up."

"You look fine," Brian assured him. "More than fine." Kissed him. "How about we forget about this party and just play?"

"Don't tempt me," Justin answered and pulled away from him reluctantly. Paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Here goes." Opened the door. "Hi. Come on in."

And with those words the evening started. Luckily, being businessmen, the partners were notoriously anal about appointments, and had all arrived at the same time so there was no waiting about for dawdlers who had yet to show up.

With everyone inside and greetings exchanged, the men showed their guests to the livingroom. Brian had set up bar on a serving cart by the entrance to the room and in no time they all had drinks in their hands but none of the women were interested in sitting around in the livingroom sipping martinis and making polite conversation. They wanted a tour of the house, even Liz Ryder-Kelly who had attended the wedding and had seen the house, albeit in an unfinished stage. Brian suspected their husbands were just as eager to see what his salary and stock options had bought.

Always willing to show off the house, Justin assumed leadership of the twenty minute tour of the Kinney/Taylor-Kinney manse. As usual, the highlights were the art: the sketches he had done, Brian's photographs, Gus' painting, and the walls he and his friends had frescoed.

Examining Justin's sketch of Brian in bed, Searle raised a brow prompting Brian to wish that they'd changed out the drawing just for tonight. But then the white-haired partner said, "Excellent draftsmanship. Glad to see they still teach you something in art school."

His wife confided in Justin, "Ronald went to art school in New York. He's very good with a pencil. He did a number of drawings of me when I was young and pretty too," she confessed, with an eye towards Brian.

Cassidy's wife, who was in her mid-forties, spent the most time in front of Gus' painting. They'd gotten it mounted at the mall, Gus had picked out the frame himself: shiny, reticulated brass. "How old is your son?"

"Almost three," Brian told her. "His birthday's next month."

But Cassidy focused on Brian's photographs. "You do these?" he asked Brian.

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should think about becoming a fashion photographer."

With a tilt of his head, Brian grinned. "Is this your way of telling me I'm no longer wanted as a partner?"

To his credit, Cassidy looked embarrassed but Ryder came to his rescue. "Trying to cut down on expenses—and keep you busy," he joked with a sly smile and Brian laughed.

Upstairs, of course, the frescoes held center stage.

"Joanie told me how beautiful they were but I had no idea," exclaimed Liz. "Would you be interested in a commission? We would pay."

"Ah… sure. Could you wait until school started though? It's a lot easier to do with Xavier and Rennie."

Jennings, who'd looked as if he'd eaten a persimmon during most of the tour, asked, "And just what year are you in school?"

"Junior." Ignoring the implied insult, Justin beamed. Only two more years left and he'd be a free man.

Once they were ensconced back in the livingroom, the waiters from The Zoo swooped down upon them and served appetizers. Drinks were refreshed and their guests began to chat in groups much as they did at any gathering. Jennings and Mason were over by themselves with their heads together. Their wives were not with them as the two women cared nothing for one another. Cassidy, instead, sat talking with his wife and Jenning's wife while Mrs. Mason joined a group comprised of Liz Ryder-Kelly and Mrs. Searle, who had questioned Justin very closely during their tour, evidencing a great interest in the house's furnishings. Searle and Ryder parked themselves near Brian and the serving cart and the three men talked business mostly although they had questions about the house as well. Justin contented himself with circulating and making sure everyone was comfortable until Liz called him over to her group and he spent the next fifteen minutes exchanging stories about Italy with Mrs. Mason who had gone on a European grand tour just out of college.

Finally, dinner was announced and they proceeded into the dining room and arranged themselves around the table as they wished, Brian and Justin on opposite ends.

Everything sparkled, from the elegant china and stemware on the table to the ornate chandelier above. The gold-colored, silk curtains shimmered in the lamplight and billowed slightly from the breeze coming through the opened window.

Brian raised his wine glass and was joined by the rest of the diners at the table. "Welcome," he said quite simply, and dinner commenced.

The steam rising from the hot rolls as they broke them open was like an aphrodisiac. Butter melted as soon as it was applied and for a while there was silence as they partook of the delicious bread.

By the time the soup course was over, even Jennings and Mason were laughing along with the rest of the folks and behaving as if they and their hosts were bosom buddies. Brian suspected it was the wine. Then again, lobster bisque did have a way of loosening people's tongues and putting them in a very good mood.

Which lasted all the way through dessert, another Derek and Hansel triumph: tiramisu served in individual footed trifle dishes. Brian had requested the dessert especially for Justin, a thank you note for agreeing to throw the party. He watched as a smile spread across his husband's lowered face.

They retired to the livingroom for after-dinner drinks, the evening drawing to a close, soothing jazz playing on the CD DJ Twist had compiled for the party. Leo, who had been upstairs, made an appearance, curling up on the chaise lounge and watching the proceedings with interest.

While they conversed, the waiters removed the last of the dishes from the dining room and cleaned up the kitchen, preparing to go now that the party was almost over.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when their guests rose to leave. Although the party had been a success, they were glad to see the partners and their wives to the door. Once the last person had gotten into their car, Brian and Justin, who had been waving goodbye from the wrought iron gate, returned to the house. The caterers had gone. Their guests had gone.

"Finally," Brian breathed, falling down onto the sectional, the warm leather giving in all the right places.

Justin joined him, pillowed his head on his husband's chest. "I feel like I was just in a beauty contest," his face ached from smiling so much.

"Well, you definitely deserve a crown. Searle was very impressed."

"I like him. And his wife. I bet she was beautiful when she was young."

"I bet she still thinks she's beautiful," Brian teased and Justin smiled.

"She is. She kind of reminds me of your mom."

Brian thought for a moment. "Kind of. The way Joanie might have been if… if things had been different."

"The way she is now," Justin clarified for him. "Alive… and confident."

With a kiss, Brian made a suggestion. "How about we lock the doors and go upstairs?"

Justin kissed him deeply and made a suggestion of his own. "How about we forget about the locks and stay down here?" He kissed Brian again and began taking off his jacket.

"What an excellent idea." 

 

Everything had to be perfect. After all, it wasn't everyday that they celebrated their six month anniversary. Justin lit the candles. Six months deserved something special; so even though it was just the two of them, he set the table in the dining room with the good china and stemware. Fresh flowers in a vase; champagne chilling in a bucket on the buffet. Dinner was almost ready: the quiche only had a few more minutes in the oven and he'd already tossed the salad. The only thing missing was his husband.

Checking the quiche first, he sat at the island and waited for the sound of the Jeep roaring up the driveway. Thought about their wedding day six months ago. He'd been looking at the photos earlier today. How happy they'd been surrounded by their friends and family. It still amazed him, that Brian had agreed to the ceremony; more than agreed, had helped plan the day, even participated in the decorating. To Justin, that, just as much as anything else, had convinced him that he was doing the right thing. He'd had doubts that he hadn't shared with anyone; prior to the wedding, he'd feared that they were making a mistake, that the relationship they had would not hold up under the pressures of marriage. But he'd put aside those doubts and spoken his vows. Now, he knew that he'd been right. God knows there'd been days since the wedding when he thought that he would choke Brian but there had never been a moment when he'd thought they'd be better off apart. There had never been a moment when he'd doubted that they would be together always. Even Kenneth's best effort hadn't been enough to destroy what they had. Their relationship was stronger than it had ever been.

Six months. A soft smile lit Justin's face. Each day, as impossible as it seemed, he discovered another reason to love Brian. Sometimes it was something small: the way the sunlight glinted in his eyes or a certain way he had of holding his head when he was amused. Other times the reason loomed large: Brian consenting to throw a Fourth of July party, decorating the guest room for Molly, his agreeing to have Craig over for dinner. Despite their spats and arguments and disagreements, Justin knew in his heart that he'd found his soul mate, his partner for life. Those were more than mere words and he intended to keep the vows he'd made for as long as he lived.

He heard the Jeep come to a screeching halt outside. Heard a car door slam. Cutting off the quiche, Justin met Brian at the entrance to the kitchen. They kissed for a very long time, dinner put on hold while they celebrated.

"I love you."

Smiling broadly, Justin replied, "I love you too."

"Guess we're stuck with each other then."

"For life." Justin parted from him. "Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Go change and I'll put out the food."

Brian removed his jacket and draped it over a bar stool. Pooled his tie on top and opened the fridge. Took out the salad bowl and dressing. "Dining room?"

"Yeah," said Justin and he found the oven mitts and took the quiche out of the stove.

By the time they'd settled down at the table, Leo had come from upstairs to say hello to Brian and to investigate. Getting his ears scratched, he left them then in search of his own food.

Music played softly in the background, piano and violins, a woman's voice.

They raised their champagne glasses. "To us," Justin offered simply.

"To us." Brian took a sip, then pulled out the bottle to check the label. "Nice."

"You are such a label queen," joked Justin.

"Why else have them?" Brian asked, quite seriously.

"Eat your food."

He sampled the quiche. "You make this?"

"Um-hm."

"It's good."

"No labels." Justin giggled; he couldn't resist teasing Brian.

But Brian wouldn’t give in. "Yeah, there is. You. You're the label."

"What's it say?"

" 'Full of—' "

"Brian!"

"It says," he began again, " 'Made by the best.' "

Blushing, Justin asked, "So what'd you do at work today?"

Brian laughed and shook his head. That was his Baby. "Six months, huh?"

"Yep."

"Doesn't seem that long."

"Lot's happened."

 _And we make it up  
as we go along   
we make it up we   
go along_ 1

"Guess." He still couldn't remember that night in Birmingham and he refused to let the shadows of that evening haunt this one. Clearing his head of any thoughts of Kenneth, he smiled brightly and Justin lowered his eyes momentarily before speaking.

"You're so beautiful."

"Just for you," Brian said softly.

Falling silent for a moment, Justin said, "I was just thinking…"

"Uh-huh." Justin smiled and it was Brian's turn to look away. They didn't call the young artist Sunshine for nothing. Brian remembered Justin smiling like that the day they were married and it had almost melted his heart. Had it been six months ago? It felt like just last week. "So you were just thinking what?"

"How nice it is to stay at home and celebrate."

"Good food… good wine…"

"…fresh flowers… candlelight…"

"…and the hottest sex ever."

Justin's stomach fluttered in anticipation. Brian was telling the absolute truth. And, of course, now the image of them making love had planted itself in his mind and he could hardly concentrate on dinner, wanting to throw down his napkin and race upstairs to moan and groan until the early hours of the morning. He could already feel Brian moving between his thighs and the heat rose up from his belly to color his cheeks.

A sliver of a smile on his raspberry lips, Brian sipped his champagne. Although his face wasn't flushed, he was feeling the heat as well, just thinking about Justin's legs wrapped around his waist. Espying a last bit of quiche on his plate, he devoured it and wiped his mouth. Justin was way ahead of him, standing to blow out the candles. They grabbed the dishes and glasses, silverware and quiche pan and ferried everything into the kitchen, dumped it into the sink, and made a valiant attempt to rinse each piece before they loaded it into the dishwasher but their bed beckoned and they were not able to resist its call.

They fell against the wall as they raced up the stairs, kissing hungrily, tearing off clothes, deciding in a rush that maybe they didn't need the bed after all, maybe the steps would do. Justin moaned as Brian unzipped him and pounced on his cock, sucking him until he was hard and wet. Pulling from between his lips, Justin turned around and held onto the rail with one hand while Brian rimmed him. Fingers pressed into either cheek, Brian opened him up and licked him, tongue digging, probing.

"Ah! Ah…" groaned Justin, growing dizzier with each lick. His legs trembled and he was glad of the railing, glad of Brian's strong grip.

When his lover's tongue finally withdrew, he shivered and would have gone to his knees except that Brian picked him up and carried him to their bedroom, laid him on their bed and laid him bare. Pushed up his shirt and kissed his nipples, ran his tongue along the center of his chest, the middle of his torso, down around his navel. Brian licked his cock head, caressed the swollen flesh with his tongue, drew it into his mouth, sucked him, teased him. Justin reached for Brian's head but Brian caught his hands and held them down along his sides while he continued to lap up Justin's precum as it bubbled from the tip of his cock. Repeatedly his tongue washed over and under, around the head. Justin raised his hips to force his dick inside Brian's mouth once again but the man jerked away, refusing. Only when Justin had settled down did he return to his catlike feasting.

He rubbed his face against Justin's cock, the stubble on his chin and cheeks driving his spouse wild. Rubbed his face over Justin's balls and listened to him cry out. Went back on his knees and grabbed Justin by the hips, raised his ass up, lowered his face between his cheeks and rubbed his hole with his stubble-covered chin.

Justin shuddered and gripped the comforter. His head lolled about on the pillow and spittle ran down his chin. He wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. He felt like a wild animal, wanting to be mounted, wanting Brian to shove his dick right up the center of his ass. Unable to voice his desires, he pushed Brian's head away from his hole and turned over on his belly. Raised his ass in the air. Hoped Brian was watching. He could feel his hole tightening and relaxing. Felt a tongue swipe it. Frustrated, wanting Brian's cock and not his tongue, Justin moaned but he didn't have long to wait as Brian was just as hungry. Soon they were joined, jostling the bed. Words, even the simplest of words, escaped them. They communicated in grunts, and groans, and sighs. 

 

After the first wave of need had washed over them and receded, they were able to relax and enjoy the rest of their evening. Which included, of course, bringing out their wedding album and reminiscing about that day.

 _I'm freezing that  
frame   
I'm freezing that frame_ 1

"Were you nervous?" Justin asked and Brian responded in the negative. "Not even a little bit?"

"What for?"

"I was," Justin confessed.

"No shit," teased Brian. Then he asked, "About what?"

"I wanted everything to be perfect."

"Why?"

He fidgeted for a moment, then replied, "I didn't want anyone to think that we couldn't do it. That we weren't as good as some straight couple."

"We were better."

Justin gazed at his favorite wedding picture: the two of them standing beneath the lighted swag over the French doors to his studio. "We looked fabulous."

"We were fabulous."

Knowing how much Brian hated answering questions like the one he was about to ask, Justin asked him anyway, "What was your favorite part?" He busied himself flipping through the album, unsure if Brian would respond.

A soft smile illuminated Brian's face. "When Rev. Ophelia introduced you as Justin Taylor-Kinney. That was better than anything."

"Why?" Justin wanted to know.

"Cause it meant the ceremony was over." Brian suffered being pushed by Justin, then slipped his arm around his spouse's shoulders. Kissed him. "Cause it meant you were really mine. And no one could take you away from me."

Turning, Justin laid his face against Brian's chest. "Just let them try."

_How did it go so  
fast   
you'll say as we are looking back   
and then we'll understand   
we held gold dust   
in our   
hands_

_in our  
hands_ 1 

"Daddy, what's dat?"

They were outside working in the herb garden. Justin looked where Gus pointed. "That's a caterpillar." It was red and brown and dappled with whitish spotting and had spines on its back.

"What's dat?" Sometimes grownups forgot that naming something didn't automatically explain it and Gus often had to ask his question a second time. He crouched down to watch the caterpillar make its slow progress across a stepping stone.

"It's an insect." Justin groped for words Gus would understand. "It's like a worm except that it becomes a butterfly."

"Butterfly?" Gus laughed. Shook his head. The things daddies said. "No." He knew what butterflies were and they did not look like worms.

"It eats a lot of food--like you--and then it goes to sleep for a long time and when it wakes up, it's a butterfly."

"It sleeps?"

"Yep."

"And then?"

"It wakes up and it's a butterfly," Justin explained.

As if that explained anything. "How dat?" asked Gus.

"I'm not sure," Justin confessed. "Except that's what caterpillars are supposed to do. They get older and bigger and become butterflies."

"I'm a butterfly?"

Justin smiled and said, "No. You'll just get older and bigger; and one day you'll be a man like me and Daddy."

"Be big?"

"Tall like Daddy."

"Yeah." Gus couldn't wait. 

 

Having gone inside to escape the midday heat, Gus and Justin worked in his studio making fingerprint butterflies since Gus seemed so interested in them. Brian stuck his head in once to find out what they were doing, then announced that he was going out for a while and did Justin want anything.

He'd been on vacation for a few days now and Justin figured he was getting antsy. "You're not going to work are you?" He'd gone to class himself that morning but had hurried home to be with Gus.

"No."

"Well, I don't need anything." He was surprised Gus hadn't asked to go with Brian but so far he was content to paint butterflies while Leo watched from a safe distance as if he knew he was in danger of getting finger-painted and didn't want anything to mar his beautiful, golden coat.

Brian bussed Justin and slipped on his sunglasses.

"Later." Justin watched him stride out of the studio and across the backyard. Watched the progress of his slender hips and long, long legs appreciatively. Wow. 

 

Even after Brian returned home, he didn't say where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Letting him indulge in a bit of cloak and dagger play, Justin didn't ask.

That night before they put Gus down to sleep, Brian revealed the answer to the day's mystery: a book. A book called Very Hungry Caterpillar. Sitting in their bed, with his son in his arms and his spouse by his side, Brian read Gus the story of a caterpillar who becomes a butterfly. "In the light of the moon a little egg lay on a leaf..." Gus turned the pages, putting his fingers in holes that went through the food the caterpillar ate each day. At the end of the book, the caterpillar emerged from his chrysalis a beautiful butterfly.

"The end," said Brian and handed the book to Gus to marvel over.

The little boy flipped back through the pages and pointed to the different foods the caterpillar had eaten and named them, showing them to Justin.

"That's amazing. I told you caterpillars became butterflies." Gus giggled. "Wasn't it nice of Daddy to get you this book?"

"Yeah." Gus hugged Brian. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You ready to go to sleep?"

"No."

"You wanna go play with Leo?"

"Yeah." So off he went and Leo climbed down from the bed to run after him. They'd be at it for at least another half hour before the Sandman visited them both.

With Gus gone, Justin snuggled close to his husband. "That was really sweet."

"I'm a sweet guy."

"I'm glad you took some time off."

"Give the underachievers a chance to catch up," he joked. Then, even though he never thought he'd admit it, he did. "I was pretty burned out."

"Well," said Justin, stroking his bare arm, "you've got the whole rest of the week to relax."

"With Gus around?"

"Okay, so relax is a relative term."

"Actually," Brian confessed, "I'm glad he's here." Gus was approaching the age where they could begin to engage in conversations and he found that he enjoyed talking to him. Loved Gus' curiosity and sense of adventure. His generosity of spirit. Those were things he'd inherited from Lindsay, that Justin had helped shape. Brian prized those qualities in his friend and partner and valued them no less in his child. Not for the first time did he find himself looking forward to Gus' becoming an adult, imagining the kind of man he'd be. And he smiled, seeing in his mind a tall, slender, hazel-eyed young man with a beautiful smile, a young man who looked a lot like he had at that age but far more at peace with the world and with himself.

He could hardly wait to hear what he had to say. 

 

All day the thought kept going through Brian's mind, He's a junior now, and each time it did, he smiled. He was as proud of Justin's achievements as if they were his own. In a way, they were because he had been there from the beginning, or from what he and Justin thought of as the beginning of Justin's life, the night his real life had begun: the night they'd met, the night Gus had been born.

Tonight was the opening reception for Pittsburgh IFA and Brian had already cleared his afternoon schedule so that he could get home in time to change and have an early dinner out before heading to the institute. Justin was understandably excited as this year marked the second half of his college career and his little friends had returned to town.

This past Sunday they'd come over to the house and all three had horsed around in the backyard like puppies, splashing in the pool and sunning themselves as they played catch up. Brian had put on his swimsuit and gone out for a while before returning to the safety of the house. The noise level and Rennie's leering looks had been more than he could stand for very long. He hoped they'd behave a little more civilly this evening.

His phone buzzed. Cynthia, reminding him that it was time to go. "Yeah?"

"Get a move on, Boss."

"I'm moving."

"Tell Justin I said congratulations."

"He's not graduating," Brian explained unnecessarily.

"It's a big deal, being a junior," she said before ringing off.

He agreed.

On the way home he made a couple of stops, at one shop picking up something he'd dropped off to be engraved a few days ago.

Arriving at the house, he saw that Justin's Cherokee was gone. Maybe he was out shopping for something to wear; he'd complained just this morning that he didn't have anything suitable. Brian had raised a brow, unable to imagine what Justin deemed unsuitable considering his wardrobe in general. Before Leo could appear to demand his attention, Brian dialed his spouse's cell.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way home. I was at the mall."

"Find anything?"

"You'll see."

Here came Leo. "Gotta go, the master of the manse has arrived demanding worship."

"Later."

Despite not knowing how long Justin would take getting home, Brian decided to put off showering until he got there. Showering with Justin was always much more fun than doing it alone. In the meanwhile, he would pet Leo for a bit and pick out something to wear from his extensive wardrobe of casual yet elegant pieces. That is, after he put Justin's flowers in water.

Stargazer lilies, snapdragons, alstroemeria, and mums. Justin would love them, the stargazer lilies reminding him of their first night together after he'd been released from the hospital, the first time they'd made love. He set the flowers on the nightstand by Justin's side of the bed where the young college student would be sure to see them. Left a wrapped box next to the flowers.

Accompanied by Leo, who had seated himself comfortably on a bench, Brian was still in the closet when Justin arrived, having decided to rearrange some of his clothes. He heard Justin call to him as he entered their suite, started to answer, then decided not to, not right away, not until he'd come into the room proper. Not until he'd seen—

"Bri—"

He'd seen them. Brian came out of the closet to find Justin holding the box in one hand and stroking the silky petals of the stargazer lilies.

"Brian… these are beautiful." It seemed a lifetime ago, that there had ever been a time when Brian wouldn't have been caught dead doing anything romantic.

He kissed the top of his lover's head. "Congratulations."

"For what?"

"You're a junior. It's a big deal, you know? Or so I've heard."

Justin laughed. Held up the wrapped box. "What's in here?"

"Kids," said Brian, shaking his head. "Why don't you open it up?"

Nimble fingers soon had the wrapping off and the box opened, the flap pulled back to reveal a 5x7 sterling silver, easel-backed picture frame with a photo of Justin inside that Brian had taken while he'd been working one afternoon in the loft. His face had been cast in shadows but you could see the outline of his body as he sketched. Beneath the photograph, the frame was engraved, "To Justin, my Michelangelo – Brian". Justin held the frame in his hands for a moment, then placed it on the nightstand by the flowers he'd received, turned, and embraced his husband.

Smiling, Brian whispered in his ear, "We'd better get moving if we want to be on time for this monstrosity."

Despite having plans for dinner, they spent way too much time in the shower playing around and had to speed dress and rush from the house with only minutes to make their reservations.

The wheels of the Jeep protested as Brian came to a screeching halt outside the restaurant. Justin figured Brian must have been owed a miracle by the Big Guy because he hadn't gotten a speeding ticket on what had been a fast and reckless ride from the house.

"Go," Brian commanded, and Justin jumped out to check on their reservations while Brian parked the car.

Lucky for them, the restaurant wasn't crowded so their spot was safe. Once Brian came in, they were shown to their table, a booth really, secluded and lit from above by a petite, votive chandelier. All throughout the room were other booths and tables at which were seated other same-sex couples. The restaurant was Liberty Avenue's newest addition, a place for more upscale dining and entertainment. There was no pulsing music, no backroom, no tweaked-out twinks looking for sugar daddies.

"Romantic," said Justin after the hostess had left and he reached for Brian's hand across the table. They fell into a comfortable silence.

Jazz music played in the background and it was only as the second verse of the song began that Justin recognized the artists, a husband and wife duo whose music they'd played at their wedding.

Carryin' on, with a wordless smile, is your eyes, aflame to me.   
They jump and burn and make me see   
How much to you I want to be,   
How much to you I want to be. 2

"I'm thinking about asking my Dad to come to Gus' birthday party," said Justin. "That okay with you?"

"Think he'd come?"

"That's not what I asked you." Justin had become wiser to the ways of Brian over the years.

"Well, he's already been through our house, so he knows where all the valuables are."

"Brian."

"Fine." He finished off his wine. "I just hope this doesn't blow up in our faces. Especially Gus'. He was spared having to have two assholes for grandfathers by virtue of death. Lindsay's dad won't acknowledge him at all. Which is fine. He can just stay the fuck away."

"Dad won't hurt Gus," Justin argued. "Not intentionally," he added.

"But Gus would be hurt just the same." He gave a little shake of his head. "That's life, I guess. Can't protect him from everything." Yet it continued to bother him.

Softly, Justin said, "I won't ask him if you think we shouldn't have him there. I don't want Gus hurt anymore than you do. He's what's important."

"I know how much you want this, want your dad to be part of whatever the fuck it is we're a part of," he said in an attempt to describe their family and thinking about the sheer number of folks involved with their lives and the myriad of roles they played. "So ask him. We'll deal with it when he comes." If he comes.

Changing subjects, Justin brought up the possibility of them having a guest. "Nana Rose is coming up for the 9/11 show and I thought maybe she could stay with us." Even though the show commemorated 9/11, it was actually held the week afterwards to give the students time to work on their pieces.

"We've got the room."

Justin frowned a little, completely surprised by Brian's reply. "Then you don't mind?"

"I like her. She'll keep you on your toes."

"Me on my toes?" He snorted.

"Oh, that's attractive."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "You know you love me anyway." When Brian didn't reply, Justin nudged him under the table with his foot. "Say it."

"Didn't think I had to," Brian explained.

"You don't," Justin said with a smile. 

 

For a change, they actually arrived in time to hear all of the Dean's opening remarks at the reception. Something they both could have done without but they were relatively brief so the pain didn't last long. When he was finished, Brian and Justin went in search of Rennie and Xavier.

"So," Rennie asked when they found them, "is someone important supposed to be here tonight?"

"Why?" asked Justin.

"You're all dressed up."

"Kenneth Cole," he explained. Icy blue shirt with a variegated pintuck coatfront over a pair of jeans with a vertical stripe that ran down the front of his thighs.

"Your taste must be rubbing off on him, Brian," she said, very appreciative of the black sweater with a striped crew neck that he was wearing as it emphasized his long, lean torso.

"Rubbing up against him, you mean," said Xavier with a grin and both Justin and Brian laughed.

Leaving the children to talk, Brian wandered the exhibit of last year's work. Spotting the still life paintings Justin and his friends had done, he reminded himself to speak to Xavier and Rennie seriously about buying some of their pieces for the house. Justin planned on putting up a notice by the student studios about their offer of showing work in their home. Maybe they'd have some takers.

"On the prowl?"

Without turning, he knew that it was Trevor. Prowling around himself, looking for trouble. If he wasn't careful, he'd find it. Brian could smell the alcohol on his breath. Maybe Trevor had a problem with the booze. Rather than engaging in a pointless conversation, Brian opted out and walked away. Or he would have except that Trevor caught hold of his arm. Turning, Brian braced himself for a scene.

"You're very rude."

"I didn't think your question deserved an answer."

"And arrogant."

"And a great fuck. Believe me, I'm well aware of my virtues."

 _Arrogant sonofabitch,_ went through Trevor's mind. But he couldn't deny that Brian was a great fuck and he couldn't escape the fact that he was still as beautiful as sin and just as enticing.

When it didn't seem as if Trevor had anything else to say, Brian tried to leave again. This time, the sculptor didn't stop him. 

Justin and Xavier waited near the luggage carrels for Nana Rose to arrive. Her plane had landed a few minutes ago and she was due any moment. Xavier glanced over at Justin. "Thanks, J, for letting Nana stay with you guys. Really appreciate it."

"No problem. Brian actually likes her a lot."

"Well, don't tell him but she likes him too."

"I think he knows," Justin confided. Brian always knew what people thought of him, for good or bad. He was probably one of the most sensitive people Justin knew, definitely the most sensitive man he knew. It's why Brian had been such a hard-ass: to protect himself.

"Hey! There she is." Xavier jogged over to meet his grandmother and hugged her as if he hadn't left her a little over three weeks earlier. To him it felt like a lifetime apart.

"Hey, Baby Boy." Kissed him soundly on the cheek, then reached for Justin who had come over too. Kissed him as well. "Hey, Baby, how you been?"

"Fine. How was the flight?"

"Short, thank God. Now, how about you boys find my suitcase and let's roll up out of here. I am tired."

While Xavier went to grab her suitcase, Justin told her, "Brian's grilling steaks tonight for dinner. That okay with you?"

"Long as I get a big, thick, juicy one."

Xavier started to giggle and Justin did too, thinking of the double entendre implied by her words. Rose shook her head. Boys. Not that she hadn't thought about it too—one point two seconds after she'd spoken.

On the way home, they stopped and picked up Rennie and, with two of his friends present, Justin began to miss Daphne really badly. They'd definitely have to make another road trip up to Princeton this semester. And go to that restaurant Brian had raved about.

Once they reached the house, Brian went up to show Nana Rose the guestroom while Justin attended to their other guests. Placing her suitcase on the bed, Brian said, "This is it."

"I can't believe how much you all have done to the house. After I put away my clothes, you'll have to give me a tour."

"Can do."

"You look just as happy as you were on your wedding day. I'm glad."

Brian hide his embarrassment by needlessly messing around with the curtains.

Her clothes attended to, Nana Rose accompanied Brian on a tour of the parts of the house that hadn't been completed by the time of the wedding—which was basically most of the house. She oohed and ahhed at the mural in the master bath, having seen pictures that Xavier had brought home but pictures never really told the whole story. Brian promised her a turn in the sauna after she said she'd never been in one.

"You won't want to get out. Sometimes Justin has to come in and get me," he confessed.

"Bet you don't mind that at all."

He grinned. "Can't say that I do."

As impressed as she'd been by the bathroom and the sauna, her eyes widened when they went inside the dining and living rooms.

"Oh, my God," she whispered in awe. "I can't believe these are the same two rooms. Your mother is a miracle worker."

"Yeah, she got me and Justin to agree on that chandelier," he replied wryly.

"I feel like I'm on All My Children. This place is something else. It ought to be in House Beautiful or some magazine like that."

He frowned. "I don't think I'd want a bunch of strangers walking through our house and taking pictures." Then he thought for a moment. "But it'd be good for Joanie's business. Still…" he started, "why would they want to do a story about two gay men? Wouldn't be good for their wholesome image."

"Honey please, I read all those home magazines and they have lots of gay couples in them. Besides, look at all the people who watch that "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" show."

"I can't stand it," Brian said, his lips a hard line. He really hated the whole idea of it.

"Me neither," said Nana Rose. "Same people watch that show, they wouldn't lift a finger if that asshole Bush decided to send all the gay people in America to Antarctica or someplace."

Brian laughed and kissed Nana Rose much as he did Deb when she had especially pleased him. "You hungry?"

Pulse quickening, Nana Rose waved him away. "You are something else." 

 

As it was still warm at night, they ate outside by the pool with the gas lamps on around the yard.

Nana Rose sat back in one of the chaise lounges after she'd finished eating a huge New York strip steak and sighed. "Now, this is the life."

"Don't get too used to it," Xavier warned her.

"Why not? You gone be a big artist one day."

"Nana…"

"It's true," Justin told him.

"What? I'm gone be a big, fat artist?" joked Xavier.

"That you'll be successful," Rennie clarified for him. "We're all going to be ridiculously successful." She did not lack confidence.

Quietly, Brian said, "I believe it." And he'd put his money where his mouth was by offering to buy their still life paintings once they came down at school. He'd given all three—including Justin—a fair price for their work. Thinking about his purchase made him remember having sent Kenneth some photos of their art. "Did Kenneth Harris ever contact you two?"

"Nope," replied Rennie. "You?" Xavier shook his head.

Another broken promise. That actually surprised him, he'd thought better of Kenneth. Guess it had all been a ploy to get him into bed. Frowning a little in the waning light, he felt Justin's hand on his thigh. Looked over. Justin smiled and Brian returned it. Fuck Kenneth.

Nana Rose gazed up at the stars which were just shyly appearing. "Look at that sky. Don't seem like the same sky as in DC." 

 

Brian cleaned up as Xavier and Rennie got ready to go back to the Institute and Nana Rose said goodbye to them for the night. Justin, sensing that Xavier didn't really want to leave, offered him the use of the second bed in the guestroom. But Xavier declined. "Night, Nana. See you tomorrow," he said and he and Rennie followed Justin out to the car.

There was no use pretending he hadn't heard, still Brian thought it was best not to bring it up. Only Rose brought it up instead.

"Would you have minded?"

At first he started to say, 'No.' After all, why would he mind? And then he realized that he would have. "Maybe a little," he said.

"Why?" she asked, perching on a bar stool.

"Don't know." He turned on the dishwasher. Leaned back against it. "I shouldn't mind, shouldn't give a shit."

"It's never going to be completely healed, is it?"

Brian shrugged. "Maybe it would if… It's not Xavier." He shook his head. "Something happened… with Kenneth Harris."

"You want to say what?"

"I don't know." He raked his hair back from his face. Maybe it was time to get it cut. Seeing the confused look on her face, he explained, "I don't know what happened. I can't remember."

"You and Justin seem okay."

"We are. We've dealt with it and… we're okay. Hell, most of the time, I don't even think about him."

"Most of the time," she repeated. "But not all of the time. Not when Xavier's here to remind you of that mess."

As much as he hated to, he admitted it. "Yeah."

"Well," she said, getting down from her perch, "I'd better hit the bed. I'm bushed."

"If you need anything…"

"It'll wait until morning. I know how you and Justin like your private time."

The euphemism caused Brian to laugh. "I like that. Our 'private time'."

Rose quipped, "It's more cidity than saying you like to fuck." 

 

Having dropped by the guestroom first to check on Nana Rose, Justin found Brian in their suite, already undressed for bed. He'd slipped on his sheer, black robe and was sitting on top of the comforter, head on a pillow, eyes closed. Justin wanted to grab a pad and pencil and sketch him, even more so he wanted to join him. As he neared the bed, Brian opened his eyes. Justin paused at the foot and looked at his husband, looked into his beautiful, hazel eyes that still had the power to amaze, to mesmerize even after all this time. Brian extended his arm and Justin came around and took his hand, let Brian pull him onto the bed and into an embrace. They kissed.

"I love you," Brian whispered and then neither said anything else for a very long time. 

 

Since all of Joanie's classes were on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she had Thursday free, so she and Nana Rose spent the day together. She arrived early in the morning after Brian and Justin had left and the two women chatted over a leisurely breakfast before beginning their day of shopping.

"It's too bad Xavier's boyfriend couldn't come with you." Joanie remembered Trey from the wedding and had liked him very much.

"He's just starting graduate school so he absolutely couldn't make it," Rose explained. "It's hard on them, being so far apart but it's not as bad as being all the way cross country or something."

Joanie smiled. "Justin hates it when Brian's away on business."

Before she could stop herself, Rose had snorted. "I would too since—" and she cut herself off mid-sentence. "My God, I can't believe what I was about to say."

"It's nothing we haven't all thought, even them." She sipped her coffee. "I think we take them for granted, the way they are now, as if they've always been in love and together. But it's been a long, hard journey for the both of them. If you could have known Brian before, you'd be amazed at how much he's changed. How much we've all changed. And we forget that even now it's possible to make mistakes."

"Lord knows, I've made my share."

"We all have." Lowering her head momentarily, Joanie looked up and directly into Rose's eyes. "When I think about how I failed Brian… it makes me ashamed. But I'm trying to make it up to him. And to Justin."

To try and lighten the mood, Nana Rose said, "Well, child, this house definitely counts for a lot! I can't believe what you've done with it."

"They both helped, believe it not. Somehow Justin got Brian to get with the program."

Rose raised a brow. "Somehow? I know how."

"You didn't hear them…?" began Joanie, face already flushed around the edges.

"No," said Rose, waving her hand. "But you only have to see Brian's face light up when Justin's around to know that he'd do anything for that child, anything in the world." 

 

It had become sort of a family ritual, all of the gang getting together to view the annual September 11th memorial show at the Institute. Due to the growing number of people who attended the show and the corresponding flatlined budget for providing refreshments, the Institute had decided to hold the reception later in the evening in hopes that most people would have eaten dinner before coming to the show. Justin's entourage got together at a new tapas bar that had opened on Liberty Avenue and swapped appetizers for an hour and a half before heading over to PIFA. While they were there, Nana Rose garnered some appreciative looks from a couple of women, one of whom managed to exchange a few words with her in hopes of snagging some private time alone.

"Poor thing," Nana Rose said after turning her down, "I sure hated to disappoint her but I just don't swing that way."

Gus was fascinated with her as well, especially her hair. They didn't think he remembered her from the wedding but no matter as he quickly took to her anyway, wanting to sit on her lap and finger her dreads, tugging on them gently and calling her, "Nana Wose."

Even Molly had been charmed by Nana Rose, who had told the little girl, "Thank you for letting me use your room while I'm in town. It's very beautiful." 

 

"Despite the dire state of funding for the arts, despite the taint of government-sponsored censorship in the air, and ongoing hostilities in the Middle East, we must continue to question, to think, to challenge, and to create," charged the Dean to each of the young artists under his tutelage. "That is our duty as conscious beings, as artists, and as citizens," he said, his charge expanded to include the guests as well. "Today we come together in remembrance of the victims of September 11th and to share the fruits of our labor in this continued quest to define ourselves and our world. Please join with us as we commemorate our losses and celebrate our victories."

A reporter and photographer from a local magazine went around taking photos of the show and eliciting reactions as artists and guests meandered through the exhibition.

Rennie had taken as her inspiration, the dream of Nebuchadnezzar and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Her piece was entitled, "Lord of the Rigs" and it was a statue of a figure with George Dubuya's head and one leg comprised of an oil rig. It stretched over a map of the world, one leg in the United States and the other in Iraq; only the names of the countries had been marked out and instead of the US, it said Mordor, and Iraq had been renamed Gondor. Anyone familiar with the books or the films knew exactly how she viewed Bush's actions in Iraq. Brian whistled and gave her a kiss on the lips. He hated Dubuya with a passion, calling him that Fucking Bone-Headed Guy Bush. "Good work, Terror Girl," he told her and Rennie beamed.

Xavier's work was also overtly political in tone. He'd created a giant Jenga game of junk in which individual pieces were labeled with the names of various countries, the United States being the topmost one. One piece, Iraq, had been captured in the act of being pulled out and it was obvious that the entire tower of garbage was about to collapse. The sculpture was entitled, "Game Over." As with Rennie's piece, Xavier's evoked a sense of loss, of mistakes made, and opportunities wasted.

"I tell you," Nana Rose said, "I just don’t know what's going on with the world today," and Lindz drew Gus to her, holding him tight as if she could protect him from the lunacy around them.

This year, as he had for the last show, Justin had chosen to do a short animated film. Its title emerged from the darkness: "Kaddish".

As a band performed the first verse of a song, a young man with a mysterious glyph in his hands danced while the psychedelic background changed and he interacted with all manner of persons, each dancing with him and being enriched by the power he held in his hands and heart.

_"Love, love is a verb  
Love is a doing word   
Fearless on my breath   
Gentle impulsion   
Shakes me makes me lighter   
Fearless on my breath"_

_"Teardrop on the fire  
Fearless on my breath"_ 3

Then the darkness descended and he was caught up in violent, swirls of black and red that threatened to overcome him.

_"Nine night of matter  
Black flowers blossom   
Fearless on my breath   
Black flowers blossom   
Fearless on my breath"_

_"Teardrop on the fire  
Fearless on my breath"_

As the last verses were sung, the young man emerged from the blackness and, although wearier than before, continued his dance in the rain, slipping and sliding, stumbling in puddles of water until another figure joined him and they danced together, growing stronger by the moment, the colors less bright than previously but gaining in intensity until they were swirling in a rainbow.

_"Water is my eye  
Most faithful mirror   
Fearless on my breath   
Teardrop on the fire of a confession   
Fearless on my breath   
Most faithful mirror   
Fearless on my breath"_

_"Teardrop on the fire  
Fearless on my breath"_

_"You're stumbling a little  
You're stumbling a little"_

There's still hope, his piece said, even if nothing can ever be the same again. Heartbroken, tired, and angry, if we try hard enough, we can still find joy and love and purpose in our lives. Brian slipped his hand in Justin's. He wouldn’t have expected anything less. Justin never gave up, never. 

Seemed like they spent an awful lot of times in the toy store these days. Maybe Lindz and Mel were right and he was spoiling Gus but he could hardly wait to see the toddler's face this year at his birthday party. In addition to the LeapPad and the other educational toys they'd picked up, they'd snagged a Get Up 'N' Bounce Tigger who sang and danced when you squeezed his hand. At first Brian found it incredibly annoying and then he began to laugh, imagining Gus' reaction and the subsequent dance moves the little boy would incorporate into his routine.

The next day at work, Brian called Lindz to tell her about the LeapPad.

"It's perfect," she said. "How many books did you get?"

"Two. We figured we'd leave some for you."

"And what else?" she asked, knowing him all too well.

"And we got him this Tigger thing that sings and dances."

"Oh my God," she laughed, having seen it on television. She could just see Gus dancing along with Tigger. "And what else?"

"That's it." Actually, they had gotten Gus some more stuff but they planned on putting those things directly in his toy box, no grand openings. After all, what was the point in having money if you couldn't spoil your child just a little bit? Besides, Gus was a good kid, he deserved some pampering. They'd feared that he'd be upset by having two households and having to travel between parents but he'd adjusted well and was beginning to fuss less when he had to go back to the Munchers' place after spending the weekend with his daddies.

"You gonna pick him up tonight?"

"After I finish with Drew."

"See you then."

He hung up and thought about how much his life had changed since Gus had been born. And since Justin had come into his life. On the same night. As Justin had said, it had to have meant something. Maybe it had been good luck, although he hadn't felt that way at the time. Maybe it had been God finally making good on a huge-assed IOU. 

 

Jennifer went through the pictures they'd taken on the Fourth of July and showed Justin the ones she wanted to take. "I can't believe Gus is going to be three next week."

"Brian and I met three years ago."

"Can't believe that either."

"Seems so long?"

"Doesn't seem long enough," she replied. "You two, it feels like you've been together forever."

He picked up a photo of the two of them that someone had taken while they were kissing. "That's our hope."

"I can't wait to celebrate your tenth anniversary."

"And twentieth, thirtieth…"

She laughed. "You'll probably have to bring me over from the retirement home for that one."

"Maybe we'll build a couple of mother-in-law suits over the garage."

Jennifer covered her mouth as she giggled. "I can just imagine Brian's reaction to that idea." Teased him. "Might put an end to those midnight dips in the pool."

"Naked, midnight dips in the pool," he added.

"Doing anything special for your anniversary?" she asked since he and Brian had gone away to the inn to celebrate it two years ago. Last year, Brian had been in California at a conference with Kenneth Harris. They all knew what had happened there and she could have kicked herself because she knew that Justin was thinking about it as well.

"Gus' party is enough."

To take his mind off of Kenneth, she turned the conversation to Molly. "Are you sure you don't mind Molly spending the weekend?"

"We fixed up the guestroom especially for her."

"It's so beautiful. She loves it."

"She better enjoy it while she can. If Lindsay has a little girl, that'll become her room."

"So they've decided to really do it?"

"Yep. Lindsay wants to wait until Gus is in school. If she gets pregnant late next year, the baby will be born in the summer and that'll give Gus just enough time to get used to having a brother or sister before he starts kindergarten."

Jennifer studied his face a moment before asking, "How do you feel about that?"

"Having another child?" She nodded. "It'll be a lot of work, having a newborn, but it's not like we'll be the primary caregivers. It'll be like raising Gus, only there'll be two kids instead of one. Maybe we won't make so many mistakes this time around. Maybe by the time Daphne and I have a kid, we'll be old pros."

"I don’t think you made that many mistakes the first time around. You're a good dad."

"Speaking of which, I invited Dad to Gus' party."

"And?" She'd been very pleased to hear that Craig had come to dinner at the house and that he and Gus had gotten along quite well.

"And he said he wouldn't make any promises."

To Jennifer's surprise, rather than seeming disappointed, Justin appeared pleased. 

 

Brian waltzed into Drew's office and took his customary seat, crossed his legs.

"You look like a contented man," the therapist said.

"I am."

"No issues this week?"

"Nope." Brian smiled. After his last fiasco with Kenneth, he'd been seeing the Doc on Tuesdays and Fridays. This was the first week in a long time when he'd only seen him once. "Gus' birthday is next Monday so we're having a party tomorrow. What about you? Got any plans?"

"Going away for the weekend."

Raised brow. "Alone?"

"Thought we were here to talk about you?"

"Ah," said Brian, "not alone. Sweet. The Doc's got a beau."

"Well, that's what we're going to find out."

Brian chuckled. "If Justin and I could survive a month in Europe, you'll be able to deal with one weekend."

"But you and Justin were made for each other."

Brian laughed again.

"What?"

"I can just see God in his baby factory with these two molds almost ready to go, hunting around, trying to find an ass perfect enough for Justin's."

Drew found it amusing too. "You seem… at peace with yourself. What's happened?"

Shrugged. "Guess I've finally decided to enjoy my life. I have everything I could possibly want, why not?" Even now, weeks after the 9/11 exhibition, the lesson of Justin's piece had remained with him.

Still Drew seemed a little skeptical. "Everything?"

He looked down at his hands, then back up again. Smiled. Sometimes he was annoyingly honest. "The things that I don't, they don't really matter."

"Like Kenneth?"

Brian shook his head. "I don't want him."

"That the truth?"

"I don't," he insisted. "I care for him, a great deal. I guess… I might even love him. But I don't want him. I used to. I used to want him real bad but I don't anymore."

"Why not?" asked Drew, figuring that it had something to do with Brian's missing memories of that night in June.

"Because he can't make me happy. Only Justin can do that." He could see Justin's eyes that he loved so much smiling up at him. "You were right: we were made for each other."

Drew nodded. Hesitated before asking, "And your dad?"

"What about him?" He intended the question to sound casual but his body betrayed him and he tensed up right before speaking. He knew Drew had noticed. "I guess I still have to work on that."

"Luckily I'm free every week to talk."

"You're not exactly free, Doc," Brian reminded him.

"But I'm worth every cent."

His patient agreed. 

 

Meeting him at the door with Gus by her side, Lindz asked, "Everything ready for the p-a-r-t-y?"

"Yep."

"What time should we come over to help decorate?"

"Around one."

She kissed Gus. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye-bye, Mommy."

As they walked to the car, Brian told Gus, "Guess who's staying with us this weekend? Molly."

"Molly!" Gus loved Molly and began to sing her name over and over again until Brian thought he'd have an aneurysm right in the middle of traffic.

"Okay, Gus, we all know her name. Don't wear it out." The toddler looked confused. "How about you sing the Molly song to Molly when we get home?"

Which excited him all over again. "Molly!"

Giving up, Brian resigned himself to listening to Gus sing all the way to the house.

Which he did. And once they got there, he grabbed his SpongeBob pull-along and Beh and dashed to the kitchen door hoping Molly was there. She was. Seated on one of the island stools watching Justin fix fried chicken for dinner. When she saw the little boy come in, she got down and hugged him.

"Hi, Gus."

"Molly!" He danced a little around her and tugged on her arm. "Camon," he said and she followed him upstairs to his room where he dropped his pull-along on the floor and Beh on the bed and went immediately to his race car table.

The children occupied for a while, Brian and Justin took advantage of the privacy to kiss hello.

"God, I'm glad we're not having any other three-year-olds at this party tomorrow," said Brian, just imagining what four Gus' would be like.

"Well, enjoy it while you can cause next year we're definitely going to have to invite some kids his age. And the year after that, there'll be a bunch of five-year-olds." A thought came to him. "Brian, what's gonna happen when all the other kids are in kindergarten and Gus isn't?"

"Why won't he be?"

"His birthday's too late. He won't be five until after September 1st." He removed the macaroni and cheese from the oven. The chicken was almost done.

"So?"

"So they won't let him in. He'll be too young."

"Fuck that. His birthday's what? Four weeks later? They can't do that."

"Oh, yes, they can." It constantly amazed Justin how Brian could believe that rules didn't apply to him if he didn't want them to.

"Then we'll send him to private school." End of discussion.

Justin felt duty-bound to say, "Private school's not exactly the greatest." He ought to know, his time in private school had been hellish to say the least, particularly towards the end.

"Yeah, well, neither is Catholic school and neither is spending an extra year in preschool when he doesn't need it." He was already getting steamed and they didn't have to worry about the problem for a few years yet.

"What if Lindsay and Mel don't want him to go to private school?"

On this point, Brian felt confident. "They'll want to do what's best for him. And if that's private school, they'll go along with it. He's a smart kid and there's no point in punishing him because he was born four weeks after some arbitrary, fucking cut-off date."

Just then they heard Gus and Molly coming down the stairs, Gus telling her, "No running."

"Why not?" she asked. "Why can't you run down the stairs, Gus?"

"Boo-boo." He hadn't forgotten falling and hurting himself on the stairs in Daddy's other house.

"You hurt yourself?"

"Yeah. Daddy said no," he replied and came around the corner and saw Brian and ran to him. Hugged him around his legs. Brian picked him up and sat him on the counter.

"You ready to eat?"

Gus shouted, "Yeah!"

"Why am I not surprised?"

Justin removed the last piece of chicken from the pan and cut off the stove. "It's ready."

Taking Gus off the counter, Brian asked, "You want to help set the table?" The little boy nodded and Brian handed him the forks. "Knock yourself out." 

 

For the first time in hours, they found themselves alone and enjoying the peace and quiet. Both Gus and Molly had gone to bed for what the two men hoped was for the night although sometimes Gus got up and came into their room, not often, but sometimes. Mostly it was when he'd had an accident in bed. Not very often but it still happened occasionally, usually after he'd had way too much to drink the evening beforehand.

"And why do we want another child?"

"Two other children," Justin reminded him.

"And why do we want more children?"

"Cause we haven't suffered enough?" ventured Justin.

"Bingo."

Justin snuggled up to Brian. "I don't know, it was kind of nice, watching them play together." Molly had even read Gus his bedtime story. "You know, Gus'll probably be Molly's age by the time Daphne and I have a child."

"God," groaned Brian, "I'm gonna be too old for this shit pretty soon."

"You? Old? No way. Forever young, that's us."

Brian grumbled, "Forever tired, that'll be us."

Testing that assertion, Justin cupped Brian's crotch and stroked him. "I don't know, I seem to feel something."

"Hernia."

Justin squeezed his cock through his jeans. "That's no hernia. That's cock. I should know. I'm an expert." He opened Brian's fly and reached inside.

"Mmm, I think I could use a little of your expertise."

Always glad to offer a helping hand, Justin jacked him off, tugging on his dick until Brian had to clamp down on the urge to shout. He came, splattering them both with his jizz, then watched as Justin unzipped his own jeans, pulled out his cock, and used Brian's cum to lube it. He stood and offered it to his husband.

Brian sucked him hard; the taste of his own spunk mixed with Justin's precum had whet his appetite for some of his lover's cream. Justin grabbed his head and held his face to his groin, then grunted deep in his belly and ejaculated. Afterwards, he crawled onto the bed and they took turns licking one another clean. 

 

Used to getting up and pouring her own cereal on Saturday mornings, Molly didn't bother to wake Brian and Justin, just collected Gus and went downstairs and found the cereal and was in the process of pouring the milk when Justin appeared.

"Hey, Moll."

"Hey."

"Hey, Daddy," Gus said, Leo in the chair next to his.

Justin gave the little boy a big kiss. "Look at you. Did you help Molly?"

He nodded and Molly said, "Gus showed me where the bowls were."

"Such a big boy."

Gus pointed to the kitchen. "Boles."

"That's right, the bowls are in there."

"I got bole. Blue bole."

"You’ve got a blue bowl."

"He talks so much better now," Molly said in between spoonfuls of cereal.

"He's learning more and more everyday."

Gus raised his spoon to Justin's face. "Daddy, want some?"

"No, thank you. I'll eat in a minute. Okay?"

"Okay."

While Gus and Molly had their breakfast, Justin put on the coffee and wondered if he should bother making anything for Brian. When he'd gotten up, Brian had looked over his shoulder at him and nestled back down under the covers. Well, if he got up any time soon, he could make his own breakfast. Taking down a bowl and finding a spoon, Justin went to join the two kids at the table.

Both Molly and Gus had started on their second bowl of cereal when Brian finally made an appearance.

Giving everyone a kiss, he padded into the kitchen, got a cup of coffee, and plopped down at the table. Put his feet up in an empty chair.

"I see Sleeping Beauty has arisen," Justin said dryly and Molly giggled as Brian's hair was standing on end and he was wearing a pair of old sweats. Still, there was something quite lovely about him. Maybe it was the way he held his coffee cup, carelessly yet elegantly, long fingers curved around the bowl bypassing the handle altogether. He reminded Justin of some movie siren from the old days. All he was missing was a peignoir and a pair of fuzzy mules—but they would have hidden his beautiful feet. Justin reached over and shook one, any excuse to touch him. "You hungry?"

Raised his cup in a salute: it was enough. "So when do we pick it up?" Meaning the cake.

"Noon."

"Mmm. And the decorations?"

Justin motioned towards the basement.

They needn't have worried about Gus eavesdropping on their conversation as he was happily consuming his cereal and ignoring them.

But Molly was alert to what was going on. "When's the—"

Brian held up his finger cutting her off in mid-sentence. "It's a surprise," he mouthed, looking towards Gus.

"Oh," she replied just as quietly. And Gus ate on in ignorance. 

 

Wondering if she had made a giant mistake, Joanie had gotten Brian to agree to invite John and Peter to Gus' party. Her charge today was to keep Gus occupied while his parents decorated the backyard and to pick up his cousins. Then she and the four kids were to have a light lunch before heading back to the house for the afternoon festivities. They'd been afraid that the weather would have begun to turn and would prevent them from getting in the pool but so far the sun had been cooperating and it was definitely hot enough to take a dip. Which would help keep the kids occupied especially since this year the guys weren't coming; it was to be a strict family affair, a kids and parents party, grandparents included. If Em and Mikey had been invited, they would have been more than capable of keeping the children entertained. But Brian and Justin were both tired of entertaining large groups and just the family alone would be more than enough people. Besides the guys could come over any time and party with them.

So while Brian and Justin and Lindz and Mel fought with inflatable toys, Joanie herded children into the mall to the food court where she foresaw a long lunch ahead of her. A long afternoon, period, since Gus was most put out by his cousins. In a way, she didn't blame him. First, John had teased him about his car seat. Ordinarily Gus didn't mind getting into the seat as he was used to it but John had taunted him and called him baby and made goo-goo sounds at him until Gus had seemed ready to clock him. He'd definitely inherited Brian's temper. Then Peter, who had taken the shotgun seat up front, had changed the radio station and cranked up the volume, scaring Gus half to death when the sounds of blaring rock blasted from the speakers instead of the soothing sounds of classical music. Molly hadn't been too impressed with the boys either. Which had also colored Gus' perceptions.

Joanie was beginning to regret her decision to include the boys and was hoping that the prospect of hamburgers and French fries would do wonders for Gus' disposition. As they entered the mall, Gus loosened his hand from hers and laughed.

He loved coming here. There was a place that had lots of toys, and one that had Pooh, and places to eat, and some places that had shiny things in it that Mama said he couldn't touch and he couldn't either cause they had glass on them, and a place that had lots of books, and one with videos, and there were lots of rooms with clothes in them. Sometimes he came with his mommies and Mama tried on clothes while he and Mommy sat and played and waited to clap when she came out. Mommy mostly got her clothes from other places. He came here too with his daddies. Daddy Justin liked a lot of the places here but Daddy only got clothes from one or two. He liked coming here with his daddies cause sometimes Daddy Justin would try on clothes and when he came out, Daddy would kiss him and the other men in the room would look at Daddy cause they wished he was kissing them too. That's cause Daddy was pretty. Daddy Justin was pretty too but Daddy was the prettiest daddy Gus had ever seen. He looked like the people on the books Gus saw in the food store. Just thinking about Daddy made him happy and he yelled, "Daddy!"

Joanie laughed. "Let's have some lunch and you can go see Daddy. Okay?"

"Okay." He swung his arms to and fro and marched in front of them. He could smell the food. Looking back at Nana, he pointed to a place with a long line. "I want French fries and burger."

But Molly frowned. Jennifer hardly ever let her have McDonald's food. "How about some pizza, Gus?" she asked him and the little boy thought about it and nodded.

"Yeah."

Joanie turned to John and Peter. "What do you boys want to eat?"

"We'll have what the baby's having," said John and he nudged Gus with his hand.

Gus whipped around and struck John. "Stop!" he yelled and he drew back to hit him again when Joanie stopped him and distracted him with thoughts of food.

"Do you want pepperoni on your pizza or sausage, Gus?"

The ploy worked and he went over to look at the different slices of pizza with Molly while Joanie gave John a good talking to.

"If you don't stop teasing him, I'm taking you back home. Do you understand?"

"But—"

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

"He hit me really hard," John complained and Peter snickered.

"You let a baby beat you up."

"Peter, I can take you home too."

"We were just playing with him."

"Well," Joanie said, "play nice."

Peter grumbled, "Uncle Bri's never nice to us."

And Joanie, remembering his behavior at the house following Jack's funeral, begrudgingly had to agree. To herself. To them she said, "He's invited you to Gus' party, which was a very nice thing to do."

"For presents," explained John.

"Then where are they?" she asked since neither boy had come out of their house carrying anything.

"Mom's got them. She's taking them to their house."

Joanie smiled. "That was very nice of you. Now, behave."

Although she liked to think it was her lecture, in reality, it was probably the thought of what Brian would do to them if Gus told him about their teasing which finally persuaded John and Peter to lay off the little boy. Gus never threatened to tell his daddy but the thought had to be in the back of the bigger boys' minds—as well as what Brian would do to them as punishment. Brian had definitely inherited Jack's temper which was no good thing. But he was trying to change. Justin and Gus had done a great deal to encourage patience and understanding in him. As did Dr. Drew. And he was learning to control his temper, learning to channel his anger and frustration into other activities.

Like his photography. His photographs were quite beautiful, as artistic as anything she'd seen at Justin's school despite Brian's avowal that the camera did all the work. She had a copy of the picture he'd taken of Gus and Leo, the one that Gus was so fond of himself, and like them, she'd placed hers in a prominent position. It never failed to garner comment from her guests. Partly because Gus and Leo were adorable but also because it was an amazing photograph. She was very proud of Brian, of the strides he'd taken to become a better person, to be a good father to his son, to be a good son himself. And his devotion to Justin was nothing short of miraculous considering his former habits and the example his own father had set. That Brian could be a caring and faithful husband, that, in itself, made her very proud. Not for the first time did she wish that Jack had lived to see how happy they were. She knew that his father's approval had been very important to Brian, was still very important to him no matter how much he declared otherwise. But, more than anything, Brian had wanted Jack to be worthy of him. Maybe if Jack had lived he would have gradually become worthy of Brian's love. She liked to believe that she had become so.

Gus interrupted her thoughts by patting her on the hand. "Nana?"

"Hmm?"

He held up his pizza. "Pizza good."

"It's very good."

Happily he munched his food, pizza sauce smeared on his face. Molly wiped it away and Gus beamed at her.

"You're a very good helper," Joanie told her.

Smiling, Molly said, "That's what Brian says too." She liked helping Brian.

Peter, who recognized that look from the looks on girls' faces at school, began to taunt her. "She likes Uncle Brian, she likes Uncle Brian."

"Peter!" Joanie was about to launch into another lecture when John put in his two cents.

"She's stupid. He only likes boys."

"Duh," said Peter, "he's doing it with her brother."

"That is enough!" scolded Joanie. "I don't want to hear another word from either of you. One more peep and I'm taking you home. End of discussion."

Looking at the two boys with his eyes narrowed, Gus said scornfully, "Bad."

Even Molly gave them a dirty look. "You two are infantile," she pronounced with a tone of derision in her voice. "Gus is way more grown up and he's only three." 

 

Back at the house, the grownups were faring only marginally better. Twice Lindz thought Brian and Justin were going to kill each other and she was only slightly fonder of Mel after her command performance. Who would have thought that blowing up a few inflatable toys and hanging blue streamers would have been such a chore?

Of course, the big problem was that there were too many leaders and not enough followers. The big problem was that for two years the women had been in charge of Gus' birthday party and now the men were. The big problem was that Brian was an advertiser and Justin was an artist which meant they both knew the 'right' way to do things. Finally, wisely, Brian abdicated and left Justin solely in charge. Being married for seven months had taught him something. He was still learning but there was hope.

"Good move," Lindsay told him when she got a chance.

"Yeah, well, I was hoping to get some tonight so I thought I'd play nice."

"You." She pushed him gently and went to help Mel with the streamers that hung from the edge of the pergola simulating water.

With Justin firmly in charge, the decorating job was quickly completed and they all took a much needed breather, sipping strawberry lemonade by the pool and waiting for the birthday boy to arrive. All that was left was to bring out the cake and light it. Joanie had called to say that they were just leaving the mall. Jennifer was on her way as well.

Justin had told the women about inviting his dad and Mel now asked, "Do you think your dad is going to show up?"

He shrugged.

"Well, let's hope he doesn't catch you two making out like Joanie did," she said and she and Lindz laughed remembering the expression on Joanie's face when she'd come downstairs after witnessing the two of them going at it in the guest room.

"Let's hope she learned something, at least," quipped Brian, earning him a sharp look from Justin at which he quieted down and busied himself with his lemonade. He really wanted some tonight.

For the next fifteen minutes or so they just enjoyed the peace and quiet and, individually, wondered if today would be a success.

Finally they heard doors slam close and figured it was Joanie and the kids. She had instructions to bring them through the house to get the full effect of the backyard. The adults went into action, Justin bringing the cake outside and lighting it, the rest of them going inside and making sure no one went outside until everything was ready.

Having wanted to see his daddy all afternoon long, Gus ran to Brian and demanded a hug, which he was immediately given.

"You have fun at the mall?" Brian asked him and Gus started to answer when Justin came inside and gave Brian the sign that all was well. Hopefully the candles wouldn't blow out. "Come on, let's go outside and you can tell me all about it." Brian carried Gus to the French doors in the family room and opened it, putting the toddler down. Gus saw the blue streamers and pointed.

"What dat?"

"Let's go see," Brian told him and together they went out on the pergola with the rest of the party guests behind them.

Gus ran ahead and pushed through the streamers and shouted, "SpongeBob!" Turned and told Brian, "SpongeBob, Daddy."

"I see it." 

 

The entire patio area had been transformed into Bikini Bottom with a papier mache pineapple and rock and tiki god surrounding the pool, just the right size for little people. Justin and Xavier and Rennie had made them. And standing next to them were the inflatable denizens of the city under the sea: SpongeBob, Patrick, Squidward, Sandy, Mr. Krabs, Gary, and Plankton.

Gus ran from the pineapple, to the tiki god, to the rock touching all the blow-up toys and showing them to the rest of the folks at the party.

Lindsay caught Gus' attention and showed him the cake on the table. "Look, Gus, look." The cake was in the shape of SpongeBob and had three candles. Gus pointed to the cake and laughed.

"Happy Birthday, Gus," everyone said and the little boy wiggled he was so happy.

"Blow out your candles, Gus," Lindsay said and lifted him up.

Taking a big breath, he blew out all the candles as his guests applauded. Pleased, he clapped as well. "I blowed them out."

"Blew them out," Justin said.

"I blew them out," said Gus. "I blew them out." He often repeated new things many times so he'd remember. "I blew them out."   
"He's so retarded," Peter whispered to John but he didn't whisper softly enough and Joanie heard him and gave him the eye.

All of the kids wanted cake and ice cream even though that meant they wouldn't be able to get in the pool right away. The temptation was just too great.

Arriving just as the last person got cake, Jennifer gave the birthday boy a big kiss and then took a proffered slice. The only person who abstained was Brian who said that it was just too much sugar. He did have a little ice cream however, fed to him by his spouse.

Mel groaned and endeavored to ignore them.

Ice cream consumed, Brian went inside and brought out Gus' presents including the one Claire had brought over earlier. She hadn't stayed but she'd assured Brian and Justin that it wasn't them, it was just that she wasn't in the mood for a party.

Gus' cake was gone and he was ready to open his gifts. Actually, he was always in the mood to open presents. He loved the bright ribbons and bows. Loved the sound the paper made when you tore it off the present, when you crunched it.

Unlike normal when his favorite present was the one Brian got him, Gus was instantly enamored of the gift Claire and the boys had given him: a Tonka Mighty Backhoe. "Look," Gus said and showed everyone his present, then immediately got in the sandbox Justin had built for him and began trying to scoop up sand in the bucket. While Justin went over and showed the little boy how to operate the scoop, Brian went inside and got Gus' dump trunk and front loader. Within moments both John and Peter had gone over and asked if they could play with the toys too. Gus, having forgotten about their earlier teasing, let them play with him, although he made it clear that he was the boss, directing them in loading dirt and moving it to where he wanted. When he realized that Molly wasn't playing too, Gus came over and got her and let her play with his new backhoe. The adults all laughed, recognizing the signs of adoration. 

 

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough, the kids eventually succumbing to the draw of the pool and changing into their swim clothes to go for a dip. Brian and Justin joined them for a while but they much preferred to swim alone so they got out and made plans for later. In with the children went SpongeBob and Patrick and all their inflatable friends so that the pool was full of color and laughter.

Maneuvering his floating ring to the steps of the pool, Gus got out and announced that he had to pee.

"You think you can go by yourself?" Mel asked him and he nodded so she let him go, she and Lindsay watching him as he opened the French door and went inside. "God, he's growing so fast."

"Be in school soon," said Lindsay.

"You really think we're ready for another one?"

"Be good for him."

"That's not what I asked." She could be a lot like Brian, which was probably part of her attractiveness to Lindsay.

"I think we're ready."

Mel motioned to Brian. "What about the asshole? You think he's ready to be a full-time dad? Two kids are going to take up more of his time than just one."

"I think he's ready too."

Anxiously waiting for Gus to return, his four parents pretended not to be concerned and both Jenn and Joanie tried not to laugh. And then the urge to laugh died.

Gus came through the blue streamers with Leo behind him. The cat froze just beyond the streamers, the noise from the pool scaring him a little.

Nudging Brian, Justin held his breath. The man stood and approached his son. Leo fled back behind the streamers and Gus seemed to shrink a little even before Brian got close to him.

He'd been counting to ten ever since he got up. Now, as he neared Gus, he felt a calm descend upon him. It was a miracle. "Gus, did you let Leo out?" Gus said nothing. "Gus?"

"Yeah," he answered in a tiny voice. Daddy had told him not to ever let Leo out but he'd wanted Leo to see the pool and the backyard and his new toys.

"I want you to take him back inside."

Gus turned and went to get Leo but the cat was frightened and wouldn't let Gus come near him.

Crouching on the ground, Brian called to Leo and Justin shushed everyone else. Softly, Brian called Leo's name and, eventually, the cat came to him. Brian petted him until Leo's heart stopped racing and then he picked him up and carried him back into the house.

Meanwhile, Gus had gone to Justin and stood by him, unsure of what Brian would say or do once he returned.

After a while, Brian came back out of the house and sat down on the double chaise next to Justin. Gus dawdled on the opposite side, then slowly approached Brian. Tugged on his shirt and when he had Brian's attention said, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I let Leo out."

"Are you going to do it again?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then," and Gus climbed in his lap and sat with his head against Brian's chest.

Joanie watched Brian and his son and remembered how Jack would yell at Brian when he was a little boy and did something wrong. Remembered how at first Brian cowered and then, as he grew older, became more and more defiant. To see him with Gus, trying to be patient, to reassure and teach rather than belittle or berate made her heart ache for the child he'd been.

Sipping her lemonade, Mel watched Brian holding and talking to Gus and she smiled. Maybe he really was ready to be a full-time dad. 

 

The party ended sometime around seven, long after Brian had fired up the grill and fixed hot dogs and hamburgers and everyone had eaten their fill. Joanie had taken John and Peter home and Jennifer had gone home sans Molly who was spending one more night with Gus and the guys. Mel and Lindsay packed up most of Gus' gifts, leaving his dancing Tigger and his new backhoe as those were the ones he seemed most interested in. Then, giving him great big kisses, they went home to spend some quality time alone. Something Brian was very afraid he and Justin would get precious little of this weekend. Especially since Gus had roped Justin into telling him a story before he would even consider going to sleep. He'd played with Molly after his bath and now that it was almost nine, he was still fidgeting. Leaving it in Justin's hands, Brian went back downstairs and joined Molly on the couch. She was watching The Powerpuff Girls movie.

Upstairs, Justin had tucked Gus in and sat next to the bed scouring his brain for a suitable story. Leo had settled down at the foot and looked as if he had no intention of ever moving. "Okay," said Justin, "a story. Let's see." Gus waited expectantly. Suddenly Justin remembered telling Gus a story he'd made up when Brian had been sick. Gus had only been a baby but the story had kept him occupied for hours. Maybe it was time to revisit the land of Liberty. "Once upon a time there lived two kings: King Charming and his consort, King Sunshine. Consort means that they were married like Daddy and I are married. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now King Charming and King Sunshine were the rulers of Libertyland which was this fabulous place where most everyone was happy. The kings lived in this beautiful palace with their little boy, Prince Gus."

Gus opened his mouth in surprise. The prince in the story had his name!

"Prince Gus was the best little boy in the whole world. He was six-years-old and very handsome and very smart and so very good. Even though he got into trouble sometimes, he was still a good little boy. And his daddies loved him very much, more than anything else in the world. Like Daddy and I love you," Justin assured him. Gus' eyes twinkled. "Now, Prince Gus had a pet, a cat, and his name was…"

"Leo!" Gus exclaimed.

"That's right. His name was Leo. Now, Leo wasn't an ordinary cat. Oh, no, he was a magic cat. He could walk just like people and he even wore a pair of boots," Gus laughed at this, "and… he could talk."

"Leo talk?"

"That's right. Leo could talk. He and Gus used to play all the time and talk about all kinds of things: about where the sun went at night and how many stars were in the sky and why grass was green and why they couldn't have cake for breakfast."

Gus laughed again. Cake wasn't for breakfast. Although it might not be bad.

"One day, Gus and Leo came down to lunch after having played most of the morning and King Charming seemed very sad. 'What's wrong?' King Sunshine asked.

" 'I lost the necklace you gave me on our anniversary.' "

"You see, King Sunshine had given his husband a very special necklace. It was a plain gold chain with a gold filigreed heart hanging from it. Do you know what filigreed means?"

Gus shook his head.

"It means it was very fancy, like the frame you picked out for your picture of Leo. But, do you know why it was so special?"

"No."

"Because the heart was a locket. That means it opened up. And on the inside on one half was a picture of King Sunshine and on the other the words, 'My heart, my life' were engraved." He took of his ring and showed the inside to Gus. "Like this."

"Daddy give you."

"That's right, he did." Justin slipped the ring back on. He hardly ever took it off, wasn't afraid of losing it in the pool or the garden because of its snug fit but, sometimes, he removed it just to look at the engraving on the inside, just to read the words that were written there even though he knew what they said. "Anyway," said Justin, getting back to the story, "King Sunshine asked King Charming how he lost it and he said he didn't know.

" 'When did you notice it was gone?'

" 'About an hour ago.'

" 'Did you retrace your steps?'

" 'Yes. But I couldn't find it.'

"King Sunshine frowned. 'Someone may have picked it up. Hopefully they'll return it.'

" 'And if they don't?' asked King Charming.

" 'We'll think positively. And then we'll offer a reward.' With that they finished their lunch and afterwards the two kings went upstairs to spend some time alone as they were hosting a state party that night and wouldn't have a chance to be alone for the rest of the day."

Gus tugged on Justin's arm. "Daddy, they take a nap?" He used to nap after lunch, still did sometimes.

"Eventually," he replied. "Left on their own, Gus and Leo decided that they would look for King Charming's necklace. Not only would it make the king happy but it'd be an adventure and afternoons were made for adventures. So, the prince and his friend set out to explore the castle in search of King Charming's locket.

"They went to all of the places the king might have gone that day. Usually after breakfast he went to the council room to meet with his advisors so they started there. They looked under the long table that stretched almost the entire length of the room; looked in all of the seats although King Charming sat at the head of the table. They looked under the rugs and behind the curtains but they did not find the necklace.

"That room done, they headed for the audience chamber, looking very carefully along the route just in case King Charming had dropped the necklace on his way there. Nothing. Once in the audience chamber, they searched each and every nook and cranny and there were a lot because this was a huge room, large enough to hold five hundred people at least. After searching the room, Prince Gus climbed onto King Charming's throne. One day, his fathers had told him, he would be king and would rule Libertyland with his consort. King Sunshine's throne sat next to Charming's and was slightly smaller but just barely. Leo searched it while Gus tried to imagine holding audiences the way his fathers did. He could hear his chamberlain say, 'Yes, Your Majesty,' and see the people of the court bowing to him instead of his father. King Charming insisted that Gus attend audience at least once every two weeks. Even though he didn't understand much that went on, he did understand that being king was a very important job and that his father was a very good king.

"Since they hadn't found the necklace in the audience chamber, the two adventurers went back to the dining room and searched there with no luck. Then they decided to go out into the garden. Sometimes King Charming and King Sunshine went for walks in the garden and talked and sat on a bench and kissed. Leo and Gus had seen them once from the palace, had watched them laughing and smiling at one another. They were very happy together. Prince Gus knew that most people had a mother and a father and that his family was different because he had two fathers and two mothers."

"Where his mommies?"

"They lived in Libertyland too but not in the palace. They had their own house and sometimes Prince Gus and Leo went to visit them. He loved his mommies very much."

"Why he live with daddies?"

"Because he was the prince and he had lots to learn about being king."

"I live with you?"

"You do come and stay with us sometimes. Like this summer when you stayed for a whole week?"

"I stay all the time?"

"Would you like to live with me and Daddy all the time?"

"Yeah."

"What about Mommy and Mama? They would miss you. Wouldn’t you miss them?"

"Yeah. I miss you."

"We miss you too when you're not here," Justin told the toddler and he hugged him tightly. He and Brian had talked about sharing custody of Gus with the Munchers and decided that it'd be a lot easier when he was in school full-time and his schedule meshed more with theirs. "So," he said, releasing the little boy, "Prince Gus and Leo searched the garden but they didn't find the necklace there either and it was getting later in the afternoon and they were a little hungry. Usually around this time of the day, they went down to the kitchen and got a snack from the cook. The cook was this beautiful lady who had thick, curly hair and always smiled and made the best food in the land. She was always happy to see Prince Gus.

" "Hello, Gus,' she said and waved at both he and his friend. 'Hello, Leo.'

" 'Can we please have some cookies?' asked Gus, as he was very polite even though he was the prince and could command people to do as he wished.

" 'I've just baked a batch of ginger cookies,' Cook told him and she gave the two friends several cookies and a glass of milk each. Wanting to eat the cookies right away, they sat down in the kitchen and had their snack there. As they ate, Leo noticed a little girl playing in the corner. She was a very little girl, only three, and she had in her hands a chain. A gold chain. And attached to it was…"

"Heart!" guessed Gus.

"That's right, a heart. A filigreed heart. It was King Charming's necklace. Leo nudged Gus and showed him the little girl. 'Look,' he said, 'she has the king's necklace.'

"Prince Gus didn't know what to do. He knew that the necklace belonged to the king but the little girl looked so happy playing with it and she was only a very little girl and it would seem like the end of the world if he took it from her. But King Charming had also been very sad to lose his necklace. So Gus told the cook about the necklace and showed her the little girl playing in the corner. The cook, being a wise lady, knew that the little girl was only temporarily fascinated by the necklace and that if given something else, she would probably latch onto it just as quickly. So she found the shiniest pot in the kitchen and a big, shiny spoon and carried it over to the little girl. As expected, her eyes grew large and she abandoned the necklace for the pot and spoon. Soon she was happily singing a song, accompanying herself with her new drum. Gus thanked the cook and rushed upstairs to the kings' bedchamber.

"He knocked and waited until he heard King Sunshine's voice telling him to enter. The kings were in their sitting room reading over some papers they had to discuss the next day in council. Without saying a word, Gus went over to King Charming and handed him the necklace. The king stared at it for a moment. 'Where did you find this?'

" 'A little girl had it in the kitchen,' he replied.

King Charming sat staring at the necklace, then opened it to reveal the engraving and the photograph of King Sunshine inside. After a moment, King Sunshine came over and took the necklace from his husband, closed the heart, and then placed the necklace over his head, settling it around his neck, the locket resting on his chest. He kissed the king and then kissed the prince as well.

" 'Thank you,' King Charming told his son.

" 'I know it's important to you,' Gus said.

" 'Yes, but not as important as you and Sunshine. The necklace was only lost but without you, I would be lost.'

"That night as they laid awake in bed listening to the sounds of the state dinner in progress below, Prince Gus and Leo talked about their adventures and the finding of the king's necklace and made plans to have an even bigger adventure tomorrow. The end." Justin smiled. "Did you like that story?"

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love you, Daddy." They kissed and Justin made sure Gus was tucked in and was just about to turn on the nightlight when he realized they weren't alone. There, in the hallway, stood his father.

Craig carried a large box in his hands and looked rather sheepish. "Mind if I come in for a little while?" Justin shook his head and stepped aside.

"Granddaddy!" shouted Gus and he got up out of bed and bounced just like his brand new Tigger doll.

"Happy Birthday, Gus. I'm sorry I missed your party." He handed Gus his present.

Although he'd just worked very hard to get Gus settled down and ready to go to sleep, Justin didn't mind. He left them to visit and went in search of Brian.

Who was seated on the back staircase. Justin joined him. "So, he showed," he said.

Brian nodded.

"Thanks for letting him come up."

"He came bearing gifts, what could I do?"

Embracing him, Justin whispered, "Do you know how much I love you?"

"I think so," he replied. "But you better show me just in case." 

 

Although she had planned to spend Sunday with Justin and Brian and Gus, Molly decided to go home with her dad. She hadn't stayed with him for a while and he offered so she took him up on it. As she gathered her belongings, Craig waited in the family room with Brian and Justin.

"So what'd you get him?" Justin asked.

"A Bob the Builder construction hat and some books." The guys laughed. "What?"

"He got a Tonka backhoe for his birthday," Justin replied.

Brian chuckled. "Maybe he'll be a construction worker instead of an architect."

"Mel won't thank us for that." Justin paused. "But the name fits."

"Your fault," said Brian. "You named him."

Craig looked confused. "Justin?"

"Lindsay wanted to name him Gus and Mel wanted to name him Abraham. I asked Justin what he thought and he picked Gus."

A look of recognition crossed Craig's face. "He had a teddy bear named Gus when he was little."

Although Mel and Lindsay knew that, Brian had never heard that story and he snickered. "Figures."

"Shut up," Justin told him and elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"I heard your story," Craig said after a moment. "You're a good father." He briefly lowered his head, then looked up again. "You have a good life here." Paused. "I envy you that." Stood when he heard Molly coming down the stairs. "Hold onto it."

Justin accompanied him to the car and hugged him. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too. He's something else."

"Gus?"

"Him too." Debated whether he'd tell Justin or not and decided that he would. "He could have shut the door in my face," meaning Brian, "but he said that Gus needed a grandfather; that if I wanted the job, it was mine. He also said that if I hurt him, he'd kick my ass." Craig grimaced. "Believe me, I have no intention of letting that happen. Payback's a bitch," he admitted, referring to his ramming the Jeep with his car and later sucker-punching Brian outside of Woody's. No way would he give Brian the opportunity to repay him for those things.

"You got your cellphone?"

"Yeah."

"Let me see." Justin took the phone from his dad and entered some information. "I put Gus' number in there. Give him a call every now and then. He loves talking on the phone."

"I bet." He had a feeling Gus loved talking period.

Justin added, "We're having Thanksgiving here this year. Think about it."

Craig ducked his head much the same way that Brian would when he didn't want to commit to something but also didn’t want to dismiss it out of hand. "Night."

Molly waved from the passenger side as they drove from the yard and Justin waved back, standing in the driveway until they were gone. Then he rushed back into the house. His husband was waiting. 

 

**Songs**

"Gold Dust" by Tori Amos on Scarlet's Walk.  
"Mad Mad Me" by Wendy Waldman on Tears of Joy by Tuck and Patti.  
"Teardrop" by Del Naja/Marshall/Vowles/Fraser on Mezzanine by Massive Attack.


	4. Illusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin investigates charges of harassment at the Institute.

_The enthusiastic and pleasing illusions of youth._ — Joseph Henry Shorthouse 

"Aragorn and Legolas," Justin said over the roar of the shower.

"What?" Brian cut off the water and stepped out onto the warm tiled floor, grabbed a towel.

"We can go as Aragorn and Legolas, to the Institute's Halloween party." Justin dried his hair, then turned to the rest of his body.

"And who says we're going?"

"You did. Last night."

"I don't—"

"You said you'd do anything if I kept on blowing you."

"Sex talk." Whenever Brian didn't want to keep a promise he'd made in the heat of the moment, he'd try to dismiss it as sex talk.

"Uh-uh, you said it so you must have meant it. You're going." Justin slipped on his bathrobe. "Only thing you have to decide is what as," he said as he headed for the closet to find something to wear.

Brian followed mumbling, "How about as someone who's never letting you near his cock again?"

Turning, Justin ran his tongue over his thick lips and then slipped his finger between them and slid it in and out, in and out. He could almost see Brian's cock getting harder. Justin laughed. "Yeah, right."

"Fuckin' asshole."

"Whatever," said Justin and he pushed Brian down onto the bench in their closet and bent over his lap. Parted his robe and stroked Brian's cock before kissing the tip. "You were saying?" He lowered his lips onto the head.

Brian sighed. "Legolas…" 

 

"You fight dirty," he complained half an hour later after Justin had thoroughly drained him both of cum and the energy to argue.

"Arguments don't seem to last as long when one of us is moaning." He kissed his husband and opened one of his drawers to find some underwear. "I like short arguments."

Finding a pair of his own briefs, Brian slipped them on and began filing through his lightweight sweaters. "So when is this travesty occurring?"

"Halloween?" said Justin. Jeesh, Brian was acting dumb.

"What about Sonny Boy?"

"Gus? What—shit!" He'd forgotten that they'd promised to take Gus trick or treating again this year. The toddler had loved making the rounds with his daddies and had insisted that they take him again.

"What time is the party?"

"Starts at eight."

"No problem then," Brian told him, despite his better judgement. "We'll be through with Gus long before then. Gets dark around five thirty so we won't be out much past six. If that late."

Pleased that Brian had come up with the solution himself, Justin hugged him from behind. "I love you, Pookie."

"I think we should go as Aragorn and Arwen," teased Brian and Justin pushed him.

"I am not a girl!"

"Then how about I go as Arwen and you can be Aragorn. 'Do you remember when we first met?' " he camped, reciting her lines from the first film.

" 'I thought I had wandered into a dream.' "

" 'Long years have passed. You did not have the cares you carry now. Do you remember what I told you?' "

" 'You said you'd bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people,' " Justin replied somberly, then cracked up. "The immortal life of the party boys."

"Guess I did," Brian said, rubbing his ring. 

 

For the first time in weeks it seemed, the guys got together for breakfast at the diner, Justin appropriating bits off Brian's plate as he worked the early shift before class.

"So what's the Boy Wonder so happy about?" asked Mikey as Justin had been gracing them with one of his higher wattage smiles all morning.

"What do you think," said Em. "They did it this morning."

Ted shook his head. "They do it every morning. What gives, O Blond One?"

"We're going to the Institute Costume party," he answered, filching a strip of bacon from his hubby.

"I'm gonna starve if you don't quit eating my food."

"You were not going to eat it and you know it."

"So," Em asked, getting back to the previous issue, "you're going to a costume party at IFA; what as?"

"The Cock of Monte Cristo," quipped Ted.

"The Dick of Windsor," Em laughed.

Brian looked at Mikey. "Well?"

Michael got that mischievous look in his eye, the one that always presaged a joke. "Fuckman." The guys cracked up, including Justin.

"What are you laughing about?" Brian asked. "You're my sidekick."

"And what's his name?" Jeff inquired, always the reporter.

"Bountiful—"

"Brian!"

"Bottom," he concluded to the absolute delight of the guys who laughed heartily while Justin tried to hide his embarrassment by ignoring them and waiting on another table. But their laughter followed him even to the kitchen.

"You have to do it," said Em. "I'll even help with the costumes."

Brian didn't promise anything—too smart—but he didn't dismiss it out of hand either.

"Every good superhero duo needs a motto," Ted reminded them.

Jeff, every bit as mischievous as his lover, had a suggestion. "Fuckman and Bountiful Bottom. Saving the world—one fuck at a time."

And even Justin had to laugh, it was just too much.

Just like them. 

 

"I think they have a rule against obscene costumes," Justin told Brian that night at home as they got ready for bed.

"Define obscene."

"They'll know it if and when they see it." Just then Brian slipped off the last of his clothes and Justin thought that pretty much defined obscene: the way his body tempted you to impure thoughts.

"Chicken."

"I thought you liked chicken," Justin teased to take his mind off of the myriad of things he'd like to do to his husband.

"Love it."

"I can't believe you told them about Bountiful Bottom."

"I didn't tell them anything. He's our own special secret." They got into bed. Even though it was October, the weather was still relatively nice. They didn't even need to turn on the heat most days. Tonight was no exception. "So what are we going to go as?" Brian asked, figuring Fuckman and Bountiful Bottom wouldn't be making an appearance this year.

"Aragorn and Legolas."

"Yeah, us and twenty other dweebs."

"Probably right," Justin agreed. Lord of the Rings was more popular than Harry Potter this year. "Well, we aren't wearing what we wore to Senator Baxter's fundraising wake at Mikey's."

"You looked so trampy."

"Hello? Mr. No Underwear." Justin still had images of those ostrich skin pants in his head. "You were such a tramp. God, you were all over that waiter."

"He was hot."

"Hotter than me?" Fishing, even though he knew he didn't have to.

"Hmm…"

"Brian!"

He slid his arm around his spouse's shoulders and pulled him in for a peck on the nose. "You're the hottest little blond twink there is."

"I'm not a twink," he said, despite secretly liking it when Brian called him that. "I'm a married man."

"My married man," Brian drawled and gave him another, more serious kiss.

"Mmm…" Justin suddenly pulled away. "What about like in An American in Paris?"

Used to his husband switching gears even in mid-sentence, Brian was nevertheless a little put-off since he'd hoped to have laid the matter to rest for the night: there were better things to do with the time they had left than talk about costume parties. Still, he laid back and waited for Justin's brilliant idea. "What about what?"

"We could make black and white costumes the way they did in An American in Paris." Coincidentally, the party had been thrown by a group of artists in the movie.

"Are you Leslie Caron or am I?"

Attempting to draw him into his plan, Justin continued. "We can pretend that Fuckman and Bountiful Bottom have come in disguise to infiltrate the party and investigate rumors of homophobia at the school."

"At the Institute? Please. There are so many fags there, the Diversity Council ought to be promoting heterosexuality." The import of his words struck him and he frowned. "What the fuck am I saying?"

"I think you need to lie down."

"I am lying down."

"Then I think you need to take your medicine," Justin suggested with a sly smile.

Brian's smile matched his. "I'm ready."

Justin straddled Brian's chest. Stroked his cock. "Open wide." 

 

It had been prophetic that Brian had mentioned the Diversity Council the night before because when Justin got to school in the morning, there was a note in his box informing him of a meeting that afternoon. Curious as to the reason—since this wasn't one of their regularly scheduled meetings—but always glad to see the folks on the council, he filed away the time in his mind and hurried off to class.

Arriving actually a minute early, he spotted Martin, one of his fellow council members. Not his favorite person in the world, Justin, nevertheless, put aside his personal feelings to inquire about the upcoming meeting. "You know what this is about?"

Martin, who delighted in being in the know, lifted a world-weary shoulder.

Bitch, thought Justin and smiled wanly to match Martin's gesture. He probably did know why but was lording or, rather, ladying it over everyone else. Whatever. They'd find out soon enough this afternoon. 

 

Once everyone had settled down, Annabelle, the chair of the council, called the meeting to order. "The reason we're meeting today is because a student at the Institute has brought before the administration allegations of harassment."

Justin wondered who it was. He hadn't heard a thing.

"Specifically," Annabelle continued, "the student has charged that he is being harassed because of his political views."

Although she prided herself on being fair-minded, Justin couldn't help but detect a note of derision in her voice and again wondered what was up. Since he couldn’t bear to be in the dark for much longer, he asked, "What happened?"

"Well, this student says that he was harassed at the 9/11 memorial show and since because of his pro-Bush stance." Muttering began among the council members.

The fog lifted. He remembered that guy's piece. Brian had snorted and walked past it without a second look. He'd been hard-pressed to examine it purely on artistic merit himself. At first he'd thought that the work had been meant in an ironic tone but when he'd realized that the artist actually admired Dubuya Bush, he'd joined Brian at the next piece in the exhibition. Still, he wanted more details. "What kind of harassment?"

"He says he's been threatened."

"Physically?" asked Justin.

"That's what he says," Annabelle reported in a tone that let everyone know how little she thought of his claim.

Justin didn't know what to think. On the one hand he couldn't imagine students at the Institute actually resorting to physical violence over a piece of art but, on the other hand, having been a victim of violence himself, he couldn't dismiss the guy's claims. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"Frankly," Martin drawled, "I don't see what we can do. We're not the Discipline Committee."

"No," replied Annabelle, "we're the Diversity Council. Which means we're supposed to promote diversity on campus."

"Seems to me," someone else said, "that there's plenty of diversity. This guy has an opinion, some other people disagree. Diversity," she pronounced as if she'd discovered the solution for cold fusion.

Depite himself, Justin spoke up. "But he's obviously not free to express his opinion since he's being threatened."

"So he says," Annabelle felt bound to point out. "We don't know what really happened."

"Well, if a gay student approached the Council and said he or she were being harassed, what would we do?"

Annabelle sighed inaudibly. "We'd investigate." Her face brightened. "I think you should be in charge of the investigation, Justin."

"Me?" He could hear his voice crack on the question and swallowed before speaking again. "But I—"

"You're perfect, Taylor," said Martin. "Excuse me, Taylor-Kinney. You've had first-hand experience with harassment."

Angry, Justin replied, "I don't think getting bashed in the head with a baseball bat would be considered harassment."

"Overachievement?" suggested Martin and Justin found himself halfway out of his seat before his vision cleared. Taking a deep breath, he sat back down.

Addressing Annabelle, Justin asked, "When do you want a report?"

"Two weeks?" When he didn't dissent, she turned to the council at large. "Any other suggestions? Discussion?" No one spoke. "Meeting adjourned."

Not trusting himself to be near Martin any longer, Justin split. He'd get the particulars from Annabelle later. Right now he just wanted to go home and decompress. 

 

All day he'd been thinking about taking a long soak in the tub, bottle of wine in the window sill, Justin in his arms. Driving up to the house and seeing the Cherokee in the yard, he began to grin. His goal was in sight.

However, the smile that greeted him when he walked into the kitchen wasn't as bright as the one he'd been envisioning. Nor was the kiss as inviting. Holding the young man for a moment after they'd kissed, Brian asked, "Something wrong?" Justin shook his head. Rather than disputing his claim, Brian decided to let Justin bring up his problem in his own time. Luckily, Leo came padding downstairs giving him an excuse to drop the matter. "Hey, Leo." The cat rubbed up against him and Brian said, "Come on," and went upstairs to change.

They passed a relatively quiet evening, Justin's mood still subdued. After dinner, they watched a DVD Justin had picked up a few weeks ago saying he'd been wanting to see it for a while now. Of course, considering the state he was in, Donnie Darko was probably not a good choice. By the end of the film, he was visibly shaken.

Then again, so was Brian. And it had nothing to do with his day and everything to do with the darkness of the film. _Why the fuck did Justin want to watch this?_ he asked himself. Sometimes his spouse's taste amazed him. Not that it was a bad movie. It was as close to brilliant as any film he'd ever seen. But depressing didn't begin to cover the way it left him feeling. Even Seven hadn't been this affecting. Standing and pulling Justin up by the hand, Brian said, "I know exactly what we need."

Fifteen minutes later they were soaking in the tub, a bottle of burgundy sitting in the window sill, two glasses already filled, bubbles tickling Justin's chin. Brian lazily stroked his partner's arms. Bussed the top of his head. "Better?"

"Um-hm."

"So what happened?"

Justin reached for his wine but did not take it. "Can we talk about it later?"

"Up to you." He took hold of Justin's arm and cleared it of bubbles, then ran his fingers up and down the length of it. "You have such soft skin." He traced the line of his shoulder, then neck, then cupped Justin's chin. Turned his husband's head and gently kissed his lips. "I love your mouth," he whispered before kissing him again. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "I want you so much," he confessed helplessly.

Justin turned in his arms, heart racing, and embraced him. "I want you too." Brian moved forward in the tub so that Justin could wrap his legs around his waist and he did so, pressing full against him. Loving the feel of Brian's muscles beneath his skin. His cock began to stiffen as they kissed, as he rubbed languorously against Brian's abdomen.

"In or out?" Brian asked.

"We'll get the comforter wet," he replied between kisses.

Catching Justin's bottom lip between his own, Brian sucked it until Justin cried out, his belly tightening, cock jerking against his lover. Brian reached down and stroked his dick. Felt it throb. Out it was. 

 

Exchanging stares with Leo, who was perched on the other side of Brian and peeping over his body, Justin sighed. It felt so good to unwind, to relax.

Brian sipped his wine. "You want to talk about it now?"

"This asshole on the Council said something really shitty to me today." He shrugged. "I guess I let it get to me more than I should."

"What'd he say?"

"It wasn't so much what he said," Justin tried to explain; "it was the way he said it." Brian waited. "He tried to imply that my getting bashed wasn't a big deal."

"Well, fuck him."

"Like I said, I should have ignored him, I just…" He didn't know how to describe his feelings about the exchange. "I almost died," he said needlessly.

"Next time, you tell him to come see me and I'll give him a blow by blow account."

Justin chuckled softly. "My hero." Brian tightened his arms around him. "I've got an assignment."

"To bring joy to the masses?"

"No," he replied, jabbing Brian gently in the side. "Investigate charges of harassment."

"Oh?"

"The guy who did the pro-Bush piece in the show—"

"Numbnuts."

"Claims he's been harassed for his political views."

"Should be. He's wrong."

"And he says he's been threatened."

Brian was quiet for a moment. "So the Boy Wonder's putting on his cape and charging off to save the day."

"You don't sound pleased."

"If you're gonna go around worshipping that fuckin' idiot, Bush, you'd better damn well be prepared to take your knocks. Especially in a school for the arts. Not exactly a hotbed of conservatism."

"Still… he outta have the right to say what he feels."

"He can. He just better be able to defend himself."

"Against violence? You're saying it's okay for people to try and hurt him?"

"That's not what I said."

"That's what he says is being done."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm supposed to investigate."

"So why you?"

"Seems I'm familiar with harassment."

"Ah…" Brian nodded. "Which is where we started this conversation: the asshole with the comment about you getting bashed."

"Yeah."

Brian put down his wineglass. "Well, be careful."

"I'm just gonna talk to some people, find out what's going on."

"And then what? You gonna hold a rally for George Dubuya?"

Truthfully, Justin didn't know what the Council would or could do if the allegations held up. "I don't know." He turned over as Brian cut out the table lamp on his side of the bed.

Watching Justin for a moment, Brian snuggled up to his back and put his arm around him. What he had to say, he could only say with Justin looking the other way so that he didn't have to see the fire in his eyes: the desire to see justice done and the belief that it could be done. Brian no longer had any such illusions about the nature of the world or his ability to change things. "First sign of trouble, you run the other way."

"Brian, I—"

"Promise me." They were married, he had rights and one of those was the right to ask Justin not to risk himself in some futile pursuit.

Justin knew where the fear came from. It came from sitting up half the night worried out of his mind that Justin wasn't going to make it. From finally admitting to himself that he loved the teen and then watching him slip away. But he also knew, in his heart, that he could no more turn his back on this until it was resolved than he could stop breathing. "I'll be careful." It was the most he could promise.

Brian kissed his shoulder, then closed his eyes. It'd have to be enough. Any more and Justin wouldn't be Justin. 

 

"Are you Thomas?" Justin asked of the guy who was hanging around the Diversity Council's cubicle in Student Affairs.

"Yeah," he replied. "You Taylor?"

"Taylor-Kinney. Justin," he added. "You can call me Justin."

"What's with the hyphenated name? Your mom a feminist?"

Justin held up his left hand. "No," he smiled. "I'm married."

"But I thought you were…" Thomas looked away. Mumbled, "I thought you were gay."

"I am. Kinney is my husband's name."

"Then you're not really married."

Laughing, Justin said, "Tell that to Brian. You should have seen the bill for the wedding." He watched Thomas struggle with the idea of two men having a wedding, considering themselves married, and he could tell that he wasn't buying it. Didn't matter. They weren't here to convince Thomas to support the gay marriage initiative. Thomas was here to convince Justin that his claims were valid. He passed into the cubicle. No one else was around in the office, which was just as well. "You wanna come in?"

Thomas took a seat in the small space. Too small by his reckoning. But it wasn't like Taylor was going to put the moves on him. _Taylor-Kinney,_ he reminded himself. "So why are you helping me?" he asked. "You have to have figured out that I'm not your typical arts student."

"Cause you're a Republican?"

"I'm a straight, white, conservative Republican."

Again, Justin laughed. "You're right. Not too many of you."

"Someone wants there to be one less," he said in a subdued voice.

"Any ideas who?"

"Take your pick," he shrugged. Thomas explained, "A lot of people expressed disapproval of my project in the 9/11 Memorial show."

"You had to have expected it."

"Some chick told me to take my ass to Iraq and then tell her how much I admired President Bush."

Justin shrugged. "The other threats you received, were they verbal? Written? What?"

"Printed. Left at my studio. Which means it could have been anyone."

"Did any of the people who spoke to you at the memorial show seem especially pissed?"

"They all seemed pissed," Thomas replied. "So much for inalienable rights."

Deciding to test him, Justin asked, "So it doesn't bother you that I'm gay and married?" He watched Thomas fidget a little. Expected him to tell some half-assed lie.

After a moment, Thomas confessed. "Yeah, it bothers me. But I'm not going to attack you because of it."

"Someone did," he said. "Tried to kill me. With a baseball bat."

"Not here though. It was supposed to be different here." He stood and paced a little in the confined space. "They're always preaching about freedom of expression… but only if you express the right opinion."

"Not everyone feels that way."

"Not you?"

"Brian says opinions are like assholes: everybody's got one."

Thomas laughed abruptly.

"So," Justin said, taking out a sheet of paper and a pencil, "let's try to make a list of all the people who ragged on you at the show." 

 

The moment he walked into the house, Brian swooped down on him with questions, anger suffusing his features.

"Where were you?"

"I—"

"Why didn't you answer your cell? I must have called you a—"

"Brian—"

"Why didn't you call me back? I didn't know where you were, what you were doing! You can't fuckin' do this, Justin. You just can't disappear, you can't—" and with that he ran out of words, the fear and anger having turned into a relief so great that he shook. Feeling for a stool at the island, he sat with his hand shading his eyes.

Justin touched his back tentatively. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." And he hadn't been, hadn't thought about the phone once he'd cut it off. "Bri… please… I'm sorry."

Brian swiveled about and embraced him, laying his head on Justin's shoulder. "Every time the phone rang, I must have jumped out of my skin. Fuckin' telemarketers."

"They have that Don't Call list now," Justin told him, aware of the irrelevancy of this line of conversation but Brian laughed as he'd hoped he would.

"What are you?" he asked. "A public service announcement?" and they both smiled remembering the first time he'd said that to Justin.

"I'll leave it on from now on," he said, meaning his cellphone.

"It kept going through my head," Brian began, "me having to explain to Gus… that you were gone." He closed his eyes. "Don't ever make me do that."

"I won't. I promise. I'll live forever."

Even though he knew Justin was joking, he also know that deep down he couldn't help but believe that he would live forever or, at least, that he'd live to see old age. Despite having almost died just two short years ago, Justin was a typical twenty-year-old in that regard. "I didn't start dinner yet," Brian told him, it being his night to 'cook' which more and more meant something other than ordering in or having pasta.

"We've got a big Boboli shell, how about we fire up the pizza oven?"

Later, after they'd taken out the steaming hot pie, they ate on the floor by the sectional and watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, Justin singing along with the characters as he'd watched this movie many times before. Leo lounged on the couch behind him, occasionally reaching out and touching Justin's hair and shoulder with his paw.

"Probably thinks you're a sheepdog," Brian said, teasing Justin about the length of his hair, especially his bangs which were starting to obscure his eyes, a serious no-no in Brian's book.

Shaking it back out of his face, Justin conceded, "I should get it cut soon." Then he brushed the bangs that fell gently on Brian's forehead.

"Guess I should too."

Justin shook his head. "I like it a little long." Ran his fingers over the stubble on Brian's cheek. "I bet you'd look sexy with a beard."

"Thought I looked sexy without one."

"Goes without saying."

Brian did admit, "Be nice not to shave everyday."

"Think about it," Justin said with a kiss, visions of shaping Brian's beard dancing in his head.

Switching gears, Brian asked, "So what were you doing today?"

Justin sat back against the sofa and reached for his beer. "Talking with that guy."

"What do you think?"

"That something's definitely up."

"You think he's telling the truth?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Why?"

"I recognized the look in his eyes." He confessed, "I used to see it in mine when I was at St. James."

Taking a moment, Brian said, "So it's another crusade."

"Brian—"

"I know. You can't stand by and do nothing. Fine. Just remember that you have a life too." Paused. "That I'm part of that life," he said softly.

"You think I could forget that?" Justin asked. He slipped an arm around Brian's waist, snuggled against his chest. "You and Gus, you are my life. The most important part." Only he couldn't lie. "But this is important too. I promise I won't let it get in the way of us. Okay?"

Brian shrugged.

"You don't believe me?" Justin asked, aware that Brian was playing hard to get.

"Maybe I'm just feeling a little unloved."

Justin eased Brian back onto the rug. Stretched out on top of him and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Can't have that," he said as one cinnamon nipple came into view and he bent his head. 

 

But despite having played the rest of the evening, Brian couldn't shake the feeling that had come over him while he'd waited at home, frantic with worry, afraid that something had happened to Justin. As his partner slept, he crept from bed and from the main part of their bedroom and sequestered himself in his office, softly shutting the doors behind Leo who had padded after him. He would have gone outside but Justin might have awakened once the cold air entered the room.

Standing in front of the window, he smoked, looking outside seeing neither the Green Giants sheltering the front yard nor the stars above the treeline. God, he'd felt so helpless when he hadn't been able to reach Justin and he hated that feeling, it made him crazy, made him say and do things that he might later regret. He'd been working on dealing with those feelings in a more productive manner with Drew, and he was proud of himself for coming clean with Justin tonight, for talking about his feelings after his initial angry outburst.

He knew Justin didn't mean to worry him, knew that he wanted to do what was best for everyone. Only sometimes that wasn't possible and Justin hadn't learned yet how to let go once it became apparent that something needed to give. He'd given up Xavier but only after they'd reached the breaking point. Brian didn't want to have to reach that point with this kid and his art and the shit he'd stirred up because it wasn't worth it, free speech, freedom of expression be damned. None of that was worth risking his family's welfare. Justin didn't believe that was at stake. Brian knew better. Knew how small things had a way of blossoming, spiraling out of control. Still, he couldn't order Justin not to help; he could only keep a watchful eye on the situation and remain wary.

Beckoning to the cat who sat on the chaise lounge, he returned to bed. 

 

His first Halloween, he'd gone out dressed as Tinky Winky; his second year, SpongeBob; this year when Brian asked him who he wanted to go as, he replied, "Tigger!" He loved the dancing Tigger he'd gotten for his birthday although he was fondest still of his Tonka trucks. For a while they thought he might want to go as Bob the Builder since his Granddaddy Craig had given him a construction hat for his birthday but he surprised them all by wanting to go as Tigger. It probably had to do with the singing and dancing involved. He loved to sing and dance although he didn't do either one very well.

So they went out to the Big Q to look for a Tigger costume that would fit him. He was quite tall for his age although slender like his daddy, having shed almost all of his baby fat. Joanie had assured them that she could take in a larger costume as long as it fit lengthwise.

With the number of people in the store, Justin was hoping they'd find a costume quickly so that they could make their escape without causing too much damage. He didn't mind himself but Brian's eyes had narrowed to a Clint Eastwood squint that boded well for no one. Brian, even on a good day in the Big Q, was most definitely the good, the bad, and the ugly all by himself. Luckily, they weren't very long in finding a Tigger costume but it was a little difficult determining if it would fit. Gus bounced around so much that Justin was sure he was about to get yelled at but Brian only gave him the eye and the toddler calmed down and let Justin lay the costume up against him. It seemed long enough. It would have to do.

"We ready?" asked Brian.

"Um, well, there's a few things we need for the house."

Giving a longsuffering sigh, Brian rolled his eyes. "Go. I'll take Mini-Me over to the toy section and plug up my ears."

"Toys!" Gus yelled and began to bounce even harder. "Yea!"

Brian took the costume from Justin and pushed him. "Hurry up."

Taking a quick look around, Justin kissed him. "Did I mention how sexy you look in that beard?"

Despite himself, Brian smiled and stroked his chin as he walked over to the toys with Gus. He'd been growing it for a week now and he had to admit that he liked the results so far. Even better, Justin loved it and showed his appreciation daily. He'd promised to trim it tonight after Gus had gone to bed. Brian could hardly wait.

Counting down the minutes until Justin reappeared, Brian let Gus drag him through the toy aisles, pointing out potential Christmas presents. He seemed most enamored of the model cars and the Leggo building blocks; Brian made a mental note to remember which ones.

As usual, they had a bit of a power struggle when it was time to go but Gus gave in and took Brian's hand after they told him the sooner they left the store, the sooner he'd get to see Nana. He loved visiting Nana and hadn't seen Joanie since his birthday party.

She was waiting for them when they arrived at her house, the curtain pulled back to give her a view of the driveway. Opening the door, she knelt just in time to receive a big hug.

"Nana!"

"Hi, Gus."

"Nana, I got a Tigger 'stume."

"Costume."

"Yeah. Cahstume."

Brian shook the bag as he entered the house. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

"Pot roast," Joanie said distractedly as she disengaged herself from Gus and raised her hand to Brian's face, touching his cheek as if she were touching an infant's. "This is new."

"My husband thought I'd look good in a beard. Like it?"

"I think you look very handsome," she declared.

Gus jumped up and down until Brian picked him up so that he could touch it too even though he'd touched it earlier. It fascinated him and he wondered if his face would get hairy too. "Beerd. Daddy got a beerd."

"Now that we've had show and tell, dinner?" Brian reminded them in his best annoyed voice although secretly he basked in their attention and Justin knew it.

"Faker," he said as he passed by on the way to the dining room.

"I am hungry," protested Brian.

"I'll bet."

Putting Gus down, Brian held Justin's chair for him and whispered in his ear, "For your ass," which caused him to blush even more than Brian holding out his chair did.

"Behave."

Gus caught Justin's attention. "Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"What we eating?"

"What are we eating?" Gus nodded. "Pot roast."

"What's dat?"

"It's like steak. Remember steak? Remember Daddy fixed steak on the grill?"

"Yeah." He picked up his fork and played with it, singing absentmindedly, "Pot roast, pot roast. Pot roast. Pot roast."

"Ma!"

"What?" Joanie yelled back.

"Hurry up before Gus gets to the second verse."

Justin laughed and popped him on the leg. 

 

After dinner, while Brian and Justin cleaned up, Joanie had Gus try on his costume for a fitting. Surprisingly, it fit very well and she didn't think she'd have to take it in at all. "Look at you," she said. "Let me see your Tigger dance," and Gus bounced around showing her his moves. He tried to sing the Tigger song too but he got the words all mixed up and rolled around giggling on the floor at Joanie's feet. "Silly Gus."

"Silly," he laughed. "I silly."

"Do you have The Tigger Movie at home?" She remembered when it'd come out a few years back, had heard John talking about it—not that he'd ever admit to wanting to see such a thing. That was for babies.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I got Pooh." And it was true, he did have The Many Adventures of Winnie-the-Pooh but he didn't have The Tigger Movie.

"Maybe for Christmas you'll get it."

He smiled. "Santa Claus brings toys." Gus remembered going to see Santa Claus and telling him he wanted a red truck and Santa had brought him a red truck for Christmas.

Having finished in the kitchen, the two men came out to see Gus in his costume and laughed as he demonstrated his dance for them as well. Reluctantly, he took off his costume when asked and got ready to go home. But he didn't want to leave Nana.

"You want to stay here tonight?" Brian asked him.

"I want to stay with Nana."

"Did you ask Nana if you could stay?"

Gus turned his big, hazel eyes on her. "Nana? Can I stay?"

Joanie hugged him. "Of course, you can. You can stay with Nana any time you want. Okay?"

"Okay."

"He'll have to put on his same clothes tomorrow," Justin pointed out.

"We'll come get him early."

"Don't worry," Joanie told them. "I'll bring him over tomorrow. Around lunchtime. Your treat." She smiled knowingly. They'd appreciate the night alone and the morning to lounge around in bed. "Say, 'Thanks, Mom.' "

Brian kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom."

Even Justin bussed her and said, "Thanks, Mom." 

 

Carefully, Justin traced an imaginary line across Brian's cheek with an electric razor, shaping his beard. Brian sat on the toilet while Justin stood in front of him, frequently turning the man's head from side to side to check his work, to make sure that both sides were even. When he was done, he stroked his partner's face. Kissed him. Brian pulled him down upon his lap and they kissed until they were forced to part to catch their breath. Then Brian stood, Justin in his arms, and they retired to the bedroom where he ran his beard up and down his lover's spine, listening to sighs as soft as the hair on his face. 

 

True to her word Joanie brought Gus back home around noon and they all had a light lunch before dispersing for the rest of the day. Joanie had homework to do and work to do on her latest commission and Justin had the afternoon shift at the diner. Left on their own, Brian and Gus decided to hit the zoo for a few hours since it was relatively nice out for a Saturday in October.

"Do you remember when you and I and Justin came to the zoo for the first time?" Brian asked the little boy as they stood in the free-flight aviary. Gus shook his head. "You were just a year old. How old are you now?"

"Three."

"That's right. You're a big boy."

Gus' attention was caught by a huge red and blue bird. "Look at dat."

"What was it?"

"A bird. It was blue."

After they left the aviary they explored the rest of the Kid's Kingdom including the Discovery Pavilion where Gus burrowed through the meerkat tunnels and popped up in bubble windows to catch glimpses of the animals. When he exited the tunnels, he immediately began narrating his exciting adventures to Brian who listened patiently even if a few of the words didn't make any sense. Gus was talking much clearer now but every once in a while his aim exceeded his grasp.

Stopping to take a rest, they bought some popcorn and Gus fed half of it to the pigeons, running back to the safety of his daddy's arms when too many swooped down to take advantage of his generosity. "The birds scared me, Daddy!" he exclaimed breathlessly, clutching Brian's jacket; then he began to laugh, thrilled by the experience, and skipped away from Brian with another hand full of popcorn to toss to the birds.

Brian shook his head and smiled. That was his son. 

 

Having exhausted themselves walking around the zoo, the two Kinney men returned home to nap, curling up on Brian and Justin's bed: Gus sheltered by Brian's body, Leo sheltered by Gus' small frame.

Two hours later, Brian awoke and watched Gus sleep. Wondered what the little boy dreamt about. If he hurried forward and dreamt of himself as an older child or if he loitered about the past dreaming of when he was just a baby.

As if he knew his father had awakened, Gus opened his eyes and drowsily inched over until he lay next to Brian once more. Softly, Gus patted his daddy's arm.

"Hmm?"

But Gus didn't answer, just continued to ply Brian's arm with his fingers.

"Do you love me?" Brian asked.

"I love you," Gus replied and hugged him.

"I love you too." Brian got up and held out his arms to Gus. "Come on, let's fix dinner before Daddy gets home."

When Justin did return, Brian was in the kitchen finishing the evening meal and Gus was putting flatware on the table. Giving Brian a kiss, Justin went in to check on his son and gave the toddler a huge kiss as well.

"See?" Gus asked and showed Justin how to put one fork next to each plate.

"You're a very good helper, did you know that?"

Slinging his bag and coat on the sofa, Justin washed up and carried the salad to the table where Gus waited patiently, Leo sitting in the chair next to his.

Brian brought in a platter of pork chops in a orange-honey glaze.

"That smells good. Doesn't that smell good, Gus?" Justin asked him as he dished up the salad.

"Yeah."

"Daddy's a pretty good cook."

"Well…" said Brian, "it's edible." Actually, he was becoming a better cook the more he had to do it. He was beginning to find it relaxing. Having to pay attention to a recipe meant not going over a meeting at work in his mind, not focusing on some new account, some new crisis.

"I think you deserve something extra special tonight," Justin hinted and Brian grinned beneath his beard just imagining what treats were in store for him. 

 

After dinner, while Brian loaded the dishwasher, Justin pulled a DVD from his backpack and gave it to Gus. The toddler took it and stared at the cover. Then jumped up and down. "Tigger!"

"Yep, it's Tigger."

Peeking out of the kitchen to see what the hubub was about, Brian shook his head. "Now who's spoiling him?"

"It was on sale," Justin said in his defense. He took the DVD back from Gus, unwrapped it, and put it in the player. Together they sat on the floor, Gus leaning back against Justin, and waited for the film to begin.

Having finished with the dishes, Brian left them to their movie and went upstairs to work out. He'd been to the gym twice this week but he still felt as if he'd been slacking off so he decided to do a couple miles on the treadmill, maybe work with his free weights, and then sit in the sauna for a while and unwind.

Even though he'd taken a week off at the end of summer, he suspected he hadn't really gotten the rest he needed. Last year he and Justin had gone to Europe for a month and even though every minute had seemed jammed packed with things to do, he'd returned rested and rejuvenated. This year he felt as if he'd never stopped hustling for a moment. He was certain it had a lot to do with Kenneth and that fiasco and the subsequent lowering of his status at work. Although no one treated him differently, he felt as if his stock had dropped a few crucial points since June. The partners' dinner he and Justin had held at the house in September had done a lot to restore him to the good graces of his business associates but he still felt he had a long way to go if he wanted to regain his former position on the corporate totem pole.

Plus, if he really wanted to face facts as they stood, no sugar coating, no obscuring the truth, he had to admit that he was getting older. He was thirty-two, no longer the young turk, the enfant terrible of advertising that he'd one been. No longer the king of the backroom at Babylon, the defacto ruler of Liberty Avenue. He was a responsible citizen, a respected businessman, a father, a husband. When he used to think about the future, it was to imagine what kind of hot, new car he would buy with his latest bonus; now he was contemplating college funds for Gus, planning for their next child, looking down the road to the day Justin and Daphne had a kid. Sometimes he hardly recognized himself and it had nothing to do with the beard he was growing and everything to do with the man he'd become on the inside.

He stripped and wrapped a towel around his waist, got inside the sauna and shut the door. Closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. And now to add to his list of responsibilities and worries, Justin had gone on another crusade for justice. Fuck. Why now? 

 

Doing bedtime duty tonight while Justin showered, Brian listened as Gus told him all about the movie he'd just watched. When he finally ran out of words, he lay back on his pillow and smiled.

"Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah."

"Sleepy?" Gus could only nod, suddenly drowsy. Brian kissed him and made sure Beh was close by. "Night, Gus."

"Nite nite, Daddy."

Leo watched him leave the room, then settled back down. Beh might keep the bad dreams away but it was Leo's job to guard the room and everything in it, a duty he took very seriously. 

 

Putting off going to the studio until after they'd taken Gus home, Justin left Brian to work at the Institute for a few hours. Even though he had a studio at home, it was sometimes distracting to work there with Brian so close by and almost always in the mood to play. Although lately he seemed a little tired. Justin had tried to get him to take more time off this summer but he wouldn't hear of it, saying he needed to devote even more of his time to work since the Harris debacle. Maybe they'd be able to get away at the holidays or for their anniversary. Brian really needed to regroup and Justin was convinced that he hadn't, he was just operating on reserves and, eventually, the reserves would give out. But any attempt on his part to bring it up and Brian would shut down, refuse to give any credence to his worries.

Justin opened his pad and picked up his pencil. He was here to work so he might as well work and stop thinking about everything else.

The next time he looked up it was after six and the sun had disappeared. That his cellphone hadn't rang was testament to his husband's knowledge of his work habits. Packing up his stuff, he promised himself that he'd stop somewhere and grab a bouquet of flowers to thank Brian for his patience and understanding.

He peeped in Xavier's and Rennie's studios but neither one was in, probably home studying since they had an art history test coming up that Tuesday. He'd planned on studying tonight, might actually get to do it before going to bed but he doubted it. There was always Monday.

There was a section of the Institute the students called the Bunker, a tunnel that led from the studio area to the parking lot. It was lined with storage rooms and the lights were pretty dim. Not exactly the safest place in the world but it was a direct route and it was warm in there and you didn't have to walk outside around the building to get to the parking lot. Definitely a plus when you'd been working in the studio for hours and were tired and ready to go home.

Like he had a hundred times, Justin walked through the Bunker towards the parking lot… 

 

Knowing Justin was probably occupied with his work, he hadn't called him, had left him alone to focus on his art. Brian remembered a conversation he'd had with Jenn years ago when Justin had first started at the Institute. She'd accused him of standing in Justin's way and even though he knew she hadn't meant everything she'd said, her words had stayed with him and he endeavored not to hinder his partner in his artistic pursuits.

Still, he missed Justin when he wasn't around. He would have gone to hang out with Mikey but Jeff had the weekend off and they were spending it together. So he'd knocked about the house all afternoon by himself and tried to keep occupied with various and sundry projects he'd been letting accumulate for a while. But his mind and heart hadn't been in them. When he heard Justin's key in the door, he nearly ran to meet him.

The first thing he noticed was that Justin's backpack was ripped. One of the straps was nearly torn completely off. "What ha—" And then he saw Justin's face. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and his eye had been blackened. "Justin—"

"I'm okay." He dropped his bag. "I'm okay," he said again as Brian eased him down onto the back stairs.

"Are you sure?" He gingerly touched Justin's face, pulled back when he winced in pain. "Baby—"

"Yeah."

"Were you mugged?"

"Brian…"

"Where did it happen? Was it at school?"

He hesitated. "I wasn't mugged," Justin replied.

And then Brian knew what had happened. The investigation. "Fuck no."

"Brian—"

"I told you!"

"It's nothing."

"You call this nothing! What do you want? What are you waiting for? For them to show up with a baseball bat and bash your brains in? Is that it? Is that what you want? Only this time, maybe I won't be there. And maybe they'll do it, maybe they'll kill you!" Brian looked away, angry and scared, and wanting to smash something, and wanting to scream.

"Brian, please. They were just trying to scare me."

"You ought to be." His expression hardened. "That's it. You're dropping this. Right now."

"No—"

"I don't want to hear it. You're dropping it and that's final."

"I won't."

"The fuck you won't!" He grabbed Justin's arm and shook him. "I won't do it! I will not sit around waiting to get a fuckin' phone call! You will not do that to me, do you understand? I won't let you." He let go, walked away and stood with his back to Justin, breathing hard. He heard Justin get up and approach him tentatively. Before he could say anything, Brian told him, "You'd better put something on that eye before it swells," and left him to go upstairs.

Almost a half hour later, Justin put in an appearance. He'd cleaned up, had put an ice pack on his eye for a while. He found Brian sitting on the bed. Joined him. "I know that you're worried about me."

"We're married now. We have a child. Responsibilities. You don't have the right to risk your life anymore. Not for this."

"You're right. I don't. But I'm not stopping." Brian started out of the room. "Brian, wait." He paused and Justin went to him. "Please, listen to me."

"You'll never understand, will you?" Brian asked softly. "I wish I could open up my head and let you see what I saw. Feel what I felt."

"I know—"

"You don't know. Because no matter how many times I've tried to explain, it's never enough. I don't have the right words, I guess."

"I was there when you thought about killing yourself. You think I don’t know?"

"You don't." Brian shut his eyes and a tear rolled down his face. "It was so bright in there. You smiled and it was like the sun had come out. And then he hit you… and you fell… and everything went dark. I felt… I felt my heart break." He moved out of Justin's reach, took a deep breath. "But you do what you want. I'll get over it. That's what I do." Sniffling, he wiped his face. "You hungry?"

Softly, "Not really."

He nodded then left the room.

Justin, after a moment, followed. They did not speak on the trip down to the kitchen. Did not speak as Brian mechanically went through the motions of searching the refrigerator. Finally, as he gave up and shut the door, Justin said, "I wish you'd understand."

"Understand what? That your family's not as important as this crusade of yours?"

"That's not true! I'm doing this for us. For Gus. So that he grows up in a world that's better than the one we grew up in."

"And if something happens to you, if he loses you, what kind of world do you think it'll be then?" asked Brian quietly.

He had no answer for that.

"Just this once, let someone else take the risks." Brian glanced away, ashamed of what he was asking but unable not to ask. "Please."

Brian's pleas went right through him like a winter wind, chilling him to the bone. He would do anything to be warm again. Justin nodded and wrapped his arms around Brian. "All right." Laid his head against Brian's chest. "I'll stop." Brian embraced him and the warmth returned. 

 

Brian was asleep, having drifted off after they'd made love. He could not sleep. Not yet. He hadn't made peace with his decision. Didn't think he would for a while. But, in the end, there had been only one choice: he would comply with Brian's request.

In a way, he was glad. The attack had frightened him, more than he'd let on to Brian. He'd sat in the Cherokee for twenty minutes afterwards, waiting for his hands to stop shaking enough for him to drive home. On the way, he'd tried to convince himself that this attack would be the last but he hadn't succeeded. He knew those guys, even though they'd been masked. He'd seen their faces. In Chris Hobbs' face. He knew they wouldn't stop until someone was seriously hurt or until they got sloppy and were caught.

The argument he'd had with Brian had been partly fueled by shame, by the knowledge that, deep down inside, he really wanted to quit the investigation. Despite everything that he'd said to Annabelle in the Diversity Council's meeting, it would have been a lot easier for him to justify staying with the investigation if it had concerned harassment of a gay student or even harassment of a student whose beliefs were more closely aligned with his own. Thomas wasn't an unpleasant person, he was just a conservative but it was enough to give Justin the excuse he needed not to commit fully to the investigation. And that burned him.

Still, he'd given his word to Brian and he intended to keep it. Now all he had to do was find a way to reconcile his actions with his principles. Unfortunately, at that moment, they seemed to be separated by a gulf as broad as the Grand Canyon. 

 

Annabelle took the handwritten notes on the legal pad Justin offered her. "Thanks." Looked at the pad instead of him. "I’m really sorry."

"I knew there was a risk," he said. "I just wish… I wish I could have done more."

"It's up to the Institute now. Maybe we were stupid to think we could do something in the first place." She finally looked at him. "Did he say anything when you told him?"

"Who?"

"The Dean?"

He admitted that he hadn't talked to the Dean yet.

"But you're going to, right?"

"Maybe it'll just die down," he said.

She frowned. "Did they threaten you?"

Justin walked away from her.

"Justin?"

"One of them said that it could have been worse." He hadn't told Brian that part. Brian would have freaked, would have come down to the school and gone through the ranks until he found Justin's attackers and then he would have kicked some serious ass. As is, he'd been livid and had wanted to come down and speak to the Dean himself. But Justin had talked him out of it.

"Justin, you have to tell the Dean. This has to stop."

As if he couldn't believe her naivete, Justin said, "What makes you think that'll help?" He had very little faith in authority, not after what had happened to him. How many times had he gone to the Headmaster of St. James? Alone, with his mom, and had it kept him from getting bashed in the head? Unconsciously, he touched the scar on his temple. Even now, Brian would brush it gently, as if he feared to hurt him. But that was no reason to infect her with his pessimism. He attempted a smile, succeeded partway, and said, "Maybe it will." 

 

The Dean assumed his position behind the podium although he did not have any notes to place upon it nor did he need it for support but it was a familiar stance and so he conformed to expectation. As he looked out into the sea of expectant faces, he wondered if he were doing the right thing. For a moment he doubted. And then he remembered his duty and he put away his doubts.

"It is not enough to uphold the illusion of democracy. We must be ever watchful. Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom. Freedom, like everything else, comes with a cost. It demands that we not only be wary of our enemies, but also of ourselves. Our own beliefs must be dissected, challenged, and confronted. We must leave the comfort and safety of our own ideology and engage ourselves in a dialogue with the world. In recent weeks, several disturbing episodes have occurred on our campus. Students have been threatened and assaulted because there are among us those whose beliefs will not allow them to even tolerate the presence of ideas that run counter to their own. As artists, as citizens in a democratic society, we cannot be party to such cowardice. If we do, one day we'll wake to discover that the enemy is not a stranger, but we ourselves." 

 

Like most everyone else, the news that Thomas had left school disturbed Justin and his friends.

"Did you know he was going to leave?" Xavier asked.

"It's not like we were best friends," said Justin.

"Still, you were investigating the threats," Rennie pointed out.

"And I stopped," he said, more harshly than he'd intended. He'd talked to Thomas, told him about the attack, but he hadn't told him he was not going to follow up on it. Still, Thomas must have known that Justin was giving up. So he'd given up himself.

"J?" Xavier frowned.

He shook his head. "I'll see you tonight at the party." Only he didn't really feel like celebrating anything. 

 

The flash from Brian's camera went off as Gus hopped about in his Tigger costume saying, "Tiggers bounce!" Of course, Brian competed with Mel who was videotaping the occasion to add to the Gus Peterson video library. The toddler shook his empty trick or treating bag and said, "Camon, Daddy. Trickortreat. Trickortreat." He took Justin's hand. Tugged on it. "Trickortreat."

"Okay, let's go." Justin waved to the women as Gus dragged him outside.

"If we're not back by six, send out the search parties," joked Brian.

Gus paused at the end of the sidewalk as if he couldn't decide which way to go. To each side of him, candy awaited. Making the decision for him, Justin turned right and they started down the street.

Four houses later, Justin was certain Gus had a future either as a politician, an entertainer, or an escort. He charmed everyone he met. Which translated into extra pieces of candy. Beaming, he thanked them graciously each time and proudly displayed his loot.

By the end of the evening, he'd hit every house for three blocks around and had a pretty impressive haul. Although he was still shy about other kids, he did wave at a few of them, taken with their costumes, even meeting up with another Tigger which he did not like at all, saying, "I'm the only one," the way Tigger did in the movie. To Gus' way of thinking, the other kid should have gone as Pooh or Piglet or even Rabbit. Brian and Justin laughed softly. He was Brian's kid all right.

Finally, around five forty, they headed back home, Gus still walking on his own, but more slowly than when they'd started out. He was definitely pooped. One of them on either side, the two men escorted him down the sidewalk just in case he started to weave.

At the time the incident occurred, Brian was on the outside, closest to the street, and his head was turned towards his spouse. Justin was telling him about the time he and Daphne had gone trick or treating dressed as Han Solo and Princess Leia. He heard the roar of a car engine and thought to himself that they were going mighty fast for a residential street, especially on Halloween with a bunch of kids roaming around. Then he heard a whoop and turned.

Two guys were hanging out of the car's windows on the passenger side. "Faggots!" they yelled, and then lobbed two eggs apiece at them, one after the other.

As the first egg approached, he threw up his arm to shield his face and pushed back at Gus, trying to keep him out of the line of fire.

Justin, having seen the first egg thrown, pulled Gus away from the street and into a neighbor's yard, turning his back to the street to further shield him.

Both Brian and Justin were hit before the car peeled away from the curb. Wanting to pick up a rock and hurl it after them, Brian, instead, turned to check on Gus and Justin. "You okay?"

"Yeah," replied Justin, looking over his shoulder the egg sliding down his back. "Shit."

The front of Brian's leather coat was slimy. "Goddamnit." Brushing at it, he knelt and hugged Gus, who was confused and shaken. "It's okay, Gus. It's all right." Brian kissed him and asked to see if he had anything in his bag. Gus giggled and opened it up.

"See? I got candy, Daddy."

"You sure do." He stood and exhaled loudly. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Even though they were only a few houses away from Mel and Lindsay's place, it seemed to take forever. Neither one of them wanted to answer any questions about the egging. Furious and unable to take their rage out on anyone, the two men walked in silence.

As soon as Lindsay saw Brian's jacket, she asked, "You got egged?" Made sure Gus was okay and then laughed. "I can't believe it. Brian Kinney got egged." But then she saw the look in both his and Justin's eyes and her laughter died away. "What happened?"

Mel came in and started to laugh as well but the somber looks stopped her. "What's going on?"

"We got egged," Justin explained.

Brian growled, "Fuckin' assholes."

"Just kids," said Mel.

"Kids yelling, 'Faggots,' " Justin said softly.

Melanie's expression hardened. "Assholes."

"In this neighborhood," Lindsay said, shaking her head.

"Guess nowhere is safe," added Justin and Brian looked at him, concern etched on his features.

Gus must have picked up on the sad tone of Justin's voice because he dug into his bag and pulled out a miniature bag of M&M's. "Here, Daddy."

Taking them, Justin smiled wanly. "Thanks." 

 

"You sure you don't want to go to the party?" Brian asked Justin as the young artist went into the closet to hang up his jacket. They'd cleaned them off in the kitchen and Brian had left his in one of the first floor closets.

"Positive."

He seemed subdued to Brian, even more so than the egging incident would have normally warranted. "You all right?"

"Yeah." He removed his Bountiful Bottom costume from its place on his clothes rack, studying it as if it had appeared suddenly, a mysterious gift from a wise, alien race. Of course, in actuality, it had been a gift from Emmett who had designed and sewn the Fuckman and Bountiful Bottom patches on two black cat suits they'd purchased. Brian's was the symbol for male done in red; Justin's was an electric blue capital B turned on its side.

"Then why don't I believe you?" Brian reached out to Justin but he avoided his touch. "Baby—"

Justin ran his fingers over the emblem on the front of his costume. "That guy who was being harassed at school, Thomas… he quit this week. And I stood by and did nothing." He dropped the costume on the floor, the blue patch hidden, the outfit transformed into a shroud. "Some hero."

"You're a hero to our son. You helped protect him tonight."

"Once upon a time it would have been worse. Instead of eggs, they would have thrown rocks or Coke bottles. The only reason they didn't was because slowly things are changing, because of people who say, 'That's enough,' and stand up for themselves, fight back, fight for what's right. Once upon a time we stood up for ourselves, for what we believed in." Thinking of the prom and the firm cocktail party they'd gone to when no one had wanted them in their midst at either event. "But not anymore. Now we hide behind the walls of our upper middle class life and pretend the real world doesn't exist. Those assholes tonight, they don't have to fear us anymore. Because we've become them." Ignoring the shocked look on Brian's face, Justin crept from the room, shame bowing his back.

A stifling silence coalesced in the room, born from the emptiness left by Justin's exit. Brian picked up the discarded costume and sat wearily on the bench in the middle of the closet.

 _The best lack all conviction, while the worst  
Are full of passionate intensity_ — T.S. Eliot, "The Second Coming"


	5. Plenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin takes care of business and the boys celebrate Thanksgiving with family.

If Leo hadn't come into the closet looking for worship, he didn't know how long he might have sat in there holding Justin's abandoned Halloween costume. Still hearing his partner's words: "Because we've become them." At first he'd chalked it up to Justin being upset about the attack. Getting egged on Halloween would piss anybody off. He was pissed as well. And he'd been scared to death that Gus or Justin would be hurt. Asshole kids. But now he realized that it was more than the attack. More than this attack, at least. He was sure Justin was thinking about having been attacked at the Institute earlier in the week and, maybe he'd thought about being bashed as well. All of it was probably going through his mind. It was certainly racing through Brian's.

Leo stood on his back legs and pawed at Brian's knee, reminding him of his unfulfilled duties. "All right," he said and began scratching the cat's ears to Leo's immediate—and vocal—delight. So Leo was pleased; he was the only one. Giving him a couple more ear tugs, Brian got up and put away Justin's costume. It was time to leave the closet.

But he didn't go in search of his spouse. He knew Justin, knew that he was probably in his studio, sitting at his drafting table. Even if he wasn't actively drawing sometimes just sitting in front of the table had a way of calming him. Brian understood that well. Justin's drawing table was like his riverside bench, a place where he could calm down enough to think about a situation instead of just reacting emotionally to it. Despite the hurtful things Justin had said to him, he knew that he hadn't really meant them, he was just angry at the world and lashing out at the nearest warm body at hand. He also knew that Justin was probably regretting what he'd said but hadn't figured out a way to apologize. He understood that as well. Sometimes it was hardest talking to the person you were closest to. Rational or not, there was always the fear of saying something wrong, saying the wrong thing, the one thing that would drive him away, even though you knew that you could never drive him away. He knew that, Justin knew it, but still the fear remained.

Having delayed dinner for trick or treating, Brian decided it was now time to eat. Justin had made turkey meatloaf yesterday and very few comfort foods ranked higher than meatloaf in Brian's book. He sliced a chunk from the loaf and nuked it before sandwiching it between two pieces of rye bread. Food and drink in hand, he plopped down in front of the TV and watched CNN while he ate. Nothing much had changed since that morning: they were still at war, the economy was still on the skids, and Bush was still an idiot. God, he hated him. More than ever now that he was the direct cause of his and Justin's present tensions. Bad enough he'd fucked up the country without him fucking up their marriage. But, of course, that asshole didn't even believe that gays could be married—but that was another grievance better left for another day. Right now he had to figure out what to do about Justin. He sighed. It seemed as if he was always sitting around wondering how to resolve some issue that had come up between them. Then he laughed. Fuck, that's what kept things interesting, he supposed. Otherwise they'd be a pair of boring, blissfully happy fags. Brian smiled. He was blissfully happy, even though he and Justin fought like Jacob and the angel at least once a week. And like Jacob and his adversary, they were both on the same side. Just had to figure out what was the best way to proceed.

Justin looked down and saw Leo staring up at him. "Hey, you hungry?" The cat meowed softly. "Didn't Brian feed you?" Leo meowed again and started towards the door and stopped, looked back to see if Justin was coming. "All right." Abandoning his perch, Justin followed the cat into the family room. Saw Brian sitting on the sofa watching the news. An empty plate and a half-full beer bottle sat in front of him on the coffee table. So he had eaten.

Having heard Justin's footsteps, Brian looked up and around as he crossed the room and disappeared into the kitchen. They hadn't made eye contact once.

After giving Leo a hand full of food, he saw to his own dinner. Eschewing any bread, Justin heated a slice of meatloaf in the microwave and fixed a small salad. Sat at the island and ate with the Icebox flipscreen television on. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Brian, not yet. He knew that Brian probably thought he was behaving childishly and maybe he was. He didn't care. He was tired of feeling hemmed in and constrained by Brian's needs, Brian's wants, Brian's demands. Why did everything have to go his way all the time? Whatever Brian wanted, he did even if it went against his own desires. And why? Why was he always expected to cave? Well, not this time. This time he would do what he wanted. He'd go back to school and do something. What, he didn't know yet but he'd figure that out later. And if Brian came around begging, well, fuck him. He was not giving in, not anymore.

Justin hadn't come back out of the kitchen so he was probably in there eating and watching TV, and seething. Maybe it was time for them to talk. Not used to being the one who did the approaching, Brian was grateful to have his dirty plate as an excuse to enter hostile territory. Clutching it and his empty beer bottle like a white flag, he sauntered into the kitchen _(Just be calm, be calm.)_ and went about putting the plate into the dishwasher and dropping his bottle into the recycling. He glanced at Justin as he passed by. "Hey."

As long as Brian understood that things weren't resolved between them, Justin figured there was no harm in speaking. "Hey." He focused again on his meal.

So he wasn't ready to talk. Still… Brian started to say something, then bit his lip and left. There was no point in getting into another argument.

Listening to him go, Justin laid down his fork, appetite banished. 

 

It was strange, preparing for bed alone. He supposed Justin was still in his studio. He hadn't stirred when Brian had gone around checking the doors and if he'd come up while Brian was in the shower, he'd gone again by the time he'd come out. Hoping that Justin would appear before he got into bed, Brian messed about in the closet, going through his clothes and setting aside the dry cleaning even though he could do that any time during the weekend. Finally he became aware of Justin entering their suite.

He'd heard the shower running earlier when he'd come up and had beat a hasty retreat. He hadn't been ready to confront Brian in that setting. His resolve, tenuous at best, might have crumbled under such an assault. Even now he hoped that Brian had put on something. He hated it sometimes, the effect Brian had on him: the way his body responded to his husband even as his mind wanted to resist. Pretending that he didn't notice Brian in the closet, Justin hurried into the bathroom to take care of necessities and prayed that Brian would get into bed ahead of him.

As he came out of the closet, he glimpsed Justin rushing into the bathroom and grinned grimly. If his little boy wanted to play games, then play they would. Brian walked over to the bed and fussed with his alarm clock. Not that he intended to set it—he had nowhere to be tomorrow, planned on sleeping in and lazing about all day—but he needed an excuse to still be up and about when Justin returned.

Preparations completed, Justin walked into the main part of their suite just in time to see Brian untie his robe and slip it from his body. He got goosebumps just from seeing the black silk cascade over Brian's shoulders and down his back like liquid mercury. He watched, unable to tear his eyes away, as Brian slung the flimsy garment over the foot of the bed, turning towards him in the process so that Justin could see him more clearly: the wide nipples, lean torso, flat belly, and long legs. So that Justin could appreciate the raspberry lips, the swanlike neck, and the heavy genitals. Their eyes met and Justin could discern the humor in Brian's gaze. His cheeks reddened. The sonofabitch knew what he was doing to him, had planned it that way. Angrily, Justin retreated to the closet, breathing slightly elevated from anger or excitement, he did not know, did not care. With jerky movements, he stripped, then walked boldly out into the bedroom as naked as Brian now was. Two could play at that game.

Brian had stretched out on the comforter, eyes barely opened, lids partially lowered. In an instant they widened. Like a hungry predator he watched as Justin walked towards the bed, pale skin glowing faintly golden in the lamplight. As had Brian, Justin fiddled with his clock, setting his as he did intend to get up early to work but, more importantly, it gave Brian the opportunity to gaze upon his ass as he stood with his back to his husband.

Brian's nostrils flared slightly and he could feel his cock stirring. _Little asshole. Don't fucking think about that_ , he told himself. _Don't think about his ass._ Of course, it was too late, the moment he told himself not to think about it, he was obviously thinking about it. And it really didn't matter as his cock had already taken matters in hand and didn't really give a flying fuck who gave in first, it just wanted some blond boy ass to sink into and it wanted it now.

He knew what Brian was thinking, knew what the man wanted, hell, he wanted it too. Wanted to crawl into bed and fuck until the morning came. But he couldn't. He would not, no matter how much he wanted to give in, he wouldn't. Throwing back the covers, Justin slipped beneath them and turned away from Brian. Reached up and turned off his bedside lamp.

For a moment he thought about just getting up and going away but that would be too fucking easy and he didn't do easy. So he turned off his lamp as well. The room was plunged into darkness. Then he got under the covers and laid as close to Justin as he could without touching him. See how long his little boy could resist him.

Justin could feel the heat emanating from Brian's body. He knew that if he turned over he'd more than likely find himself lying right up against his husband, thighs brushing against thighs, cock teasing cock. His dick twitched at the thought and he willed it to be still. There'd be none of that tonight.

He'd been sure that Justin would give in and turn over and beg him to fuck him, after all he was only about two seconds away from begging himself. But Justin had said nothing, hadn't even moved. Glaring, Brian turned onto his side, away from his spouse, and tightened his jaw. It was going to be a long, fucking night. 

 

 

And a long, fucking weekend. Saturday came and Justin was still giving him the cold shoulder. Bad enough that he didn't get any early morning nookie but it looked as if he wasn't getting breakfast either. Justin got up, showered and dressed, and went downstairs without saying a word. When Brian finally dragged himself from bed, he found the house empty and Leo nibbling away at a bowl full of food. There wasn't even any coffee. Brian grumbled, "At least you got something to eat." Putting his complaints aside, Brian went about fixing breakfast for himself and wondering what he could do about the situation that had developed. It was obvious that Justin was beyond pissed with him. In a way, he didn't blame him but he also knew that he hadn't had much of a choice either. Only he was by no means certain he could convince Justin of that and he had to if he didn't want to spend the rest of the weekend in the dog house. Or longer. Justin's temper had a way of lingering way beyond the initial infraction, ebbing and surging in response to Brian's actions whether Brian was aware of it or not. Most often he was clueless. What a pair they made.

Not wanting to stay home, Brian cast about in his mind for someplace to go. Lindsay's was out. No way was he going there and explaining his and Justin's latest blow-up. That meant Deb's was out too. And the guys were off-limits as well, they'd only rag him mercilessly about his Drama Princess. Guess that left either his mom's or someplace outside his normal stomping grounds. 

 

He found himself in a photography gallery he'd passed one day in the Jeep on his way to work. It featured contemporary works by local artists. As he walked through the space, almost empty of visitors, he imagined his own photographs hanging on its walls. Smiled. He was no artist. At best he was a dabbler, a dilettante. He did enjoy taking pictures but he had no pretensions as to their artistic merit.

A cool blonde who reminded him a little of Lindsay—except that her wardrobe had progressed beyond the thrift store stage—walked over as he was examining a riverscape in hues of blue and said, "Reminds me a little of 'Nocturne in Blue and Silver.' "

Brian looked her over then gave a little smile. "Whistler," he said, his smile widening as he saw a look of surprise came over her.

"You know something about art."

"My husband's an art student. I help with his quizzes."

To her credit, she didn't miss a beat. "Is he with you today?"

"Studio."

"Is this for one of his assignments?" she inquired.

"Me being here? No. Photography's a hobby of mine."

She reached into a virtually invisible pocket in her skirt and pulled out a business card, handed it to him. "Maybe we'd be interested."

He slipped it into his jacket. "Maybe when I'm better."

Giving him the once-over as she departed, she said over her shoulder, "I think you're damn near perfect already."

Brian laughed softly then shook his head. If only his better half thought so. 

 

The back end of the Cherokee came into view as he pulled into the yard. Which meant there was a pretty good chance Justin was home. He wondered what kind of reception he'd receive. Not wanting to give the impression that he was stalling, Brian hopped out of the car as soon as he parked and went inside.

Justin looked up from the counter. Brian was home. Time for round two.

So the Boy Wonder had decided to cook. He was busy chopping vegetables for something. Cookbook propped up next to him. Brian wandered over and peeked at the page. Minestrone. He noticed the way Justin pulled away from him. Anger washed over him like a heat flash and he stormed from the room. Fuck him.

Watching him stomp away, Justin felt a moment's remorse. He hated when they fought and hated it even more when they didn't talk to one another but there was nothing to say. Brian thought he was right and he knew that he was right and there was no middle ground, no compromising possible. He had given into Brian's demands once and look where it had gotten him. Nowhere. Now he would do things his way and Brian would either deal or not. Of course, he hadn't bothered to tell Brian any of this. If he were to be truthful with himself, he would admit that it was because he didn't want to engage in another confrontation with the man. Brian had a way of getting him to do what he'd sworn he wouldn't do. This time he had to hold to his resolution and the only way to do that was to stay away from Brian, not give him the opportunity to change his mind. But, God, he missed him.

Last night had been nearly impossible. More than once he'd wanted to turn over and take Brian in his arms and make love to him but that was the one thing he couldn't have done. Of course, he'd awakened with a morning hard-on that had only subsided in the shower, and then only because he'd turned on the cold water and gritted his teeth while the icy needles pelted him. His erection had shrank almost immediately, his balls drawing up behind the shaft in an effort to protect themselves. He'd gone into the closet and dressed in record time and escaped before Brian could get up and subject him once again to the sight of his naked body.

And still the image had haunted him in his studio. All day he'd done little more than sketch drawing after drawing of his lover. Even now he could see Brian lying supine on the bed, ruddy cock nestled between his slender thighs. Christ.

Why he let that little fucker get to him, he didn't know. But Justin had always had the uncanny ability to push all of his buttons, the good and the bad. If he could just stop thinking about his porcelain skin and perfectly shaped ass he would be all right. But he couldn't. All day, no matter where he'd gone, he'd seen Justin's silhouette in his mind: the rounded head, shoulders, and behind. Fuck, he wanted him. And he would have him too. Putting aside his anger, Brian returned to the kitchen. Without giving Justin time enough to reject him, he grabbed him by the arm and kissed him hard. Felt Justin resist for a split second before giving in to the desire that had gripped him as firmly as Brian had. Backing Justin up against the counter, Brian reached for the hem of his shirt when the younger man pushed him away.

"No."

Breathing heavily, Brian had difficulty speaking at first. "No?"

"No." Justin put some distance between them. "I don't want this."

Brian glanced down at the bulge in his lover's pants. "That says otherwise."

"Leave me alone."

Ignoring Justin's command, Brian took a step towards him.

"I said leave me alone and I mean it."

Hazel eyes met steely blue ones. There was no give in Justin's gaze. Brian pressed his lips into a thin, hard line before spitting out, "Fuck you." Then, like a whirlwind, he was gone. 

 

They did not speak to one another for the rest of the day. Brian didn't bother to eat once the minestrone was done. Didn't bother to come to bed once the evening had passed. Sliding under the covers alone, Justin regretted his earlier actions but there seemed to be no way to undo the damage that had been done. He couldn't give into Brian, not on this. 

 

Brian stripped and got into bed. The guest bed in the guest room. Molly's room. Figured he'd have nightmares about tea parties and riding ponies and whatever else it was that prepubescent girls dreamt about. Just as long as he didn't dream about Justin. About making love to Justin. Shoving the thought from his mind, he closed his eyes. Only nine hours until dawn. 

 

 

She wasn't surprised to see him, only surprised that it'd taken him so long to come around. Then again, that shouldn't have surprised her either, as it was his habit. She'd called on Sunday to let Gus talk to his daddies and gotten the distinct impression that things were a little chilly between the two men. Guess she hadn't been wrong. As was also his habit, Brian dawdled around the door for a moment before coming in. "I was just about to eat," Lindsay told him. "You're in luck. I only had one morning class today."

"I remembered."

Pecking him on the cheek, she went to check on lunch: clam chowder that she'd made last night. "You roaming the city in search of food?"

He made himself at home in his chair, slinging his coat over the back first. "Advice," he replied.

"About what?"

Brian waited until she'd returned before answering. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Keep from kicking Mel's ass even when she deserves it."

Lindz grinned. "Well… usually I think about what you would have done in her place and most of the time whatever she's done doesn't seem half as bad in comparison." When he didn't laugh or give her the finger, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Well, Justin and I haven't said ten words to each other since Friday."

"Why not?"

He only took a couple spoonfuls of soup despite the fact that he was rather hungry. "We had a fight."

"About?" As usual, getting him to talk was like getting Gus to calm down in a toy store.

"Justin thinks he's failed himself because that kid left the Institute."

"The one who was being harassed." Justin had told her about the student, told her the Diversity Council was investigating.

"And he blames me for his having failed." He sat fairly hunched over in the seat. "And it is my fault. I talked him into giving up the investigation."

Lindsay had seen the bruise around Justin's eye and the one by his mouth on Halloween. Now she put two and two together. "You had good reason."

"But now he hates me."

"He doesn’t hate you." Leave it to Brian to take things to their illogical conclusion.

"Because he's afraid to. But he would, if he'd only let himself." He seemed to shrink. "Maybe he should."

"Bri… Give him time."

"He says we've become like them, like straight people. Says we've sold out." Brian shook his head and laughed. "And we have." Sniffed. "I worry more about the fuckin' mortgage than I do about being discriminated against. After all, everybody loves us, right? There's 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' and 'Will & Grace'. Everybody loves faggots." Laughed again. "Faggots. When I heard them yell that out, at first I thought, _Who the hell are they talking about?"_

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"How am I supposed to protect them? Protect Justin and Gus?" He sighed and blinked a couple of times rapidly. "Justin's mad as hell with me because I didn't want to see him get hurt. What am I supposed to do? Pretend my stomach doesn't knot up every time I think about him lying in that fuckin' parking garage?" He shut his eyes. "I've fought all my life just to survive." Opened them, the hazel so dark his eyes looked black.

She knew he was probably thinking about Jack Kinney and how hard he'd struggled to escape from that house, to escape his upbringing, to be something, someone better than life in that hellhole had taught him to be. Even when she'd met him in college, there'd been a few rough edges left that still needed smoothing and she'd helped. Once she'd gotten past his defenses.

"I just… I want to rest, Lindsay. I'm tired of fighting," he confessed.

"Justin's angry now but he understands why you wanted him to stop. He knows it's only because you love him."

"But how can I love him, if I'm asking him to change?" Brian stared at her, waiting for an answer. He needed an answer.

"You can't change him," she said, "and you can't protect him from the world. You can only be there for him when he needs you. I look at Gus sometimes and I wonder if I'll be able to let go of him. But I'll have to. If I want him to grow, to mature. In some ways, Justin's still growing, still finding himself. And you have to let him." Then added, knowing it was at the root of his fears, "No matter how scared you are of losing him." 

 

Met at the door by Leo, Brian petted the cat for a while before going in search of his spouse. Found him in his studio, staring out at the back yard, at the riot of color that was the very last hurrah before winter. Not that he could see much of anything now that the sun had gone down.

Loathe to disturb him, Brian, nevertheless, pushed open the French doors. At the sound, Justin turned. Just having those intense, blue eyes focused on him chased his thoughts away. With difficulty, Brian remembered why he'd come into the studio. "I thought," he said softly, "that we could go out to dinner tonight."

Justin glanced away. He couldn't believe that Brian thought everything was fine again. That they could go without talking for days and then suddenly take in dinner and a movie. "I'm not in the mood."

"Oh." He started to shut the door again when all the anger and frustration he'd been feeling for three days overcame him. But instead of shutting down, he spoke up. "You know, maybe we should give away all of our earthly possessions, and move to India, live among the lepers."

Genuinely confused, Justin asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means how long are you planning on punishing me for being successful? For giving you what you said you wanted? This house, this life."

"That isn't the point," Justin mumbled.

"Then you tell me what is." Shutting the door firmly, Brian came into the studio and stood next to his husband.

Justin started to stand but Brian caught hold of his arm and pushed him back into his seat.

"Talk to me. Yell at me, scream at me, curse me, I don't care. Just don't goddamn ignore me like I'm the Invisible fucking Man."

His first impulse was to get up and walk away, fighting Brian if he had to. But he didn't want to fight Brian, physically or otherwise. What he wanted was to curl up in his arms and forget the world existed. Only the world wouldn't go away, it was right there, in their home, in their bed, in the space between them as they stood at the sink and shaved, as they watched one another from across the gulf that suddenly yawned between them.

Brian's muscles relaxed; he'd been tensed for a confrontation and, now, now he just wanted to sit at Justin's feet and not think about anything except the color of his lover's eyes at twilight: stormy, entrancing. Softly, he asked, "Was I wrong to want to protect you?"

Justin shook his head. "No."

"To want you to be safe?"

"You weren't wrong." He reached for Brian's hand. "I want to be safe. I want… I want us to have all the things we deserve. I love our home, I love our life. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"But you meant it." Brian held Justin's hand, fingers lightly brushing over his skin. "I don't want to change you." The muscles in his jaw tensed. "I fell in love with you because you were a fighter…because you didn't take shit from anybody… you were tough but you cared." He looked down at the floor, not wanting to meet Justin's blue eyes. "I just don't want to lose you."

"You won't." Justin stood and embraced him. "I promise."

"But you can't," he said. Almost unconsciously, he pushed aside a lock of Justin's hair, exposing the scar on his forehead.

"Bri…" He didn't want Brian to worry about him but he didn't want to be smothered either.

A smile flickered across his lips. "I guess if you survived that, you can survive anything."

Justin spread his fingers over Brian's cheek, loving the feel of his soft beard. "I love you."

"Love you too."

"Then why don't you kiss me?" It was a repeat performance of Saturday afternoon, only this time, there was no pulling away by either of them until they were forced to take a breath. After they parted, Justin smiled and said, "I'm hungry. You still wanna go out?"

"You buying?" joked Brian.

"I’m buying."

He gave a sickly grin, visions of greasy pizza turning his stomach. "Hmm, maybe I'd better pick up the tab, that way we can actually eat someplace decent."

Shoving Brian aside, Justin sped into the house laughing as his husband came running behind him. Brian chased him up the stairs, catching him only as they entered their suite. Swinging him up in his arms, he tossed Justin onto the bed, then fell straightway into a dream. Immediately, Justin crawled on top of him and kissed him soundly.

"I thought we were going out to dinner," said Brian.

"It's been too long," replied Justin. In no time at all, he had Brian's clothes off and was in the process of stripping himself when his partner decided to take matters into his own hands and pushed Justin down and dragged off his jeans.

He crawled between his legs, pausing with his head over Justin's groin. There, beneath his chin, was Justin's dick, nestled in a pair of snug, white briefs. Brian enjoyed teasing Justin about his tighty whities but he loved them just as well. Loved the way they cradled his cock, its outline visible against the soft, cotton material. Gently, he closed his teeth around the head of Justin's penis. Even through a layer of cloth, he could still feel it throb. Encouraged by its response, he continued to ply the head and shaft until saliva wet the front of Justin's briefs and they clung to his skin.

Wanting to taste said skin, Brian pulled Justin's underwear down and off, lifting them up over his cock. It sprung free and hovered over his belly. In an instant, Brian was on it, licking the neck, tongue searching out creases and crevices. He sucked the bump just beneath the head until Justin cried, "Oh! Oh, God…" Precum bubbled and spilled. Brian held the shaft upright and went down on him, lips forming a tight seal as his tongue lashed Justin's cock head.

Justin's feet dug into the comforter and his tongue peeked from between his lips. It felt so good, so good… All he wanted was to scream, was to shout, was to yell. He gripped Brian's shoulders and held on while his husband blew him, head bobbing over his groin as he went up and down the rigid shaft. Justin grimaced and gasped, "I'm—I'm—"

Brian released him for a moment, then sucked him back inside.

"Brian! Brian…" Justin's thigh muscles jumped and he took a series of shallow breaths. "Oohh…" he moaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ah!" He jerked and cum splashed the back of Brian's mouth. "Yes. Yes. Yes." His head lolled on his pillow as his hips pumped upwards. He could feel Brian's hands beneath his buttocks, gripping his ass as he drank his jizz. "Yes…"

Brian lapped the last of Justin's spunk from his cock, then kissed the head in hopes of coaxing a few more drops from the source. His own dick was so hard, he was afraid to fuck Justin for fear of hurting him. He wanted him so badly, wanted to plow his tight ass until it gaped open. Turning him over, he parted his legs roughly. Reached for the lube. Slathered it on his dick and then squirted some between Justin's cheeks. Using two fingers, he massaged it onto and around his hole; into it as well, one finger sliding inside, quickly followed by the other. Pulling them free, he stretched out over Justin, supporting himself on his hands. Pillowed his cock between Justin's plump buttocks. Rubbed his dick up and down the crevice until he was mad with desire. He reached down and gripped his cock, positioned it against Justin's hole, and pushed.

His vision fractured into a kaleidoscope. With a jagged sigh, he submerged himself in Justin's warmth. 

 

 

After their last conversation, the Dean hadn't expected to see Justin back in his office so quickly. The young man had been visibly shaken and understandably so. But, even though he hadn't expected Justin back so soon, he had expected him back. Everything he knew about Taylor-Kinney had led him to believe so. He remembered Chris Hobbs' trial, remembered reading the news accounts, and yet Justin had returned to school and not only kept his head above water, he'd surpassed expectations. Definitely one of the Institute's success stories. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wrong to give up," he said quite simply.

"What do you proposed to do?"

"I think we need to smoke out the people who threatened Thomas. And who attacked me."

"How?"

"By forcing them to eat their own words." He couldn't take credit for the idea, it had been Brian's actually. "The Institute could have a Diversity Week or something like that: hold workshops, discussions, performances, exhibitions… All around the theme of diversity. The whole school could get involved."

The Dean tented his fingers, thought for a moment. Declared, "That's an excellent idea."

"My husband's."

"Advertising, right?"

"Right." Justin smiled, pleased that the Dean had remembered Brian.

"You know," said the Dean, "we've been trying to think of ways to unify the different divisions of the Institute." And it wouldn't hurt to have a showcase week to sell to potential contributors. "I'll talk with the President and the other division heads and get back to the Council. I assume that the Council will be taking a leading role in this Diversity Week?"

"Ah, of course," he replied. Just as soon as he told the other members of the Council. 

 

With the tensions of the past two weeks behind him, to be able to dance without a care at Babylon seemed the sweetest reward. Even watching Brian fend off yet another unwanted suitor couldn't dampen his spirits. He just laughed and tugged on Brian's shirt, pulling him towards him. _Mine_ , the gesture said. _Hands off._

Brian smirked and lowered his head. "Does this mean you want to take me home tonight?"

"And every night," replied Justin.

With a gentle kiss, Brian said, "Deal."

"God, they're sickeningly cute," Ted commented as the two of them walked back to the bar.

"Aren't they though?" Em twirled the swizzle stick in his drink between his fingers like a pro. Sighed. He wished he had someone to be sickeningly cute with.

Ted sighed inwardly. So did he.

"Beam. Single," Brian added. To Justin, "We'll share." It was a weeknight, after all, and both of them had to be alert in the morning. Brian had a partner's meeting and Justin had class which meant no cracked heads allowed. "Where's Mikey?"

Emmett waved towards to the upper dance floor. "Last time I looked, some guy had snagged him."

"Of course," added Ted, "Michael felt duty-bound to tell him he was in a relationship."

"Whatever." Brian sipped his drink.

"That's not what you told that guy who was trying to pick you up," Justin pointed out.

"Nope. I told him I was married," Brian said with a grin. "That's different."

"Bigger ball and chain," Ted joked.

"Biggest," Brian concurred.

"So," began Em, "Thanksgiving is coming soon. We having dinner over at your place or is it family only?"

Aware that the guys still felt slighted about not being asked to Gus' birthday party, Justin said, "You are family."

"You're just not family with fuckin' kids," Brian sniped, tired of them complaining about the imagined slight.

"Unless you count Mikey," Ted joked and all was right again.

"Count me as what?" the person in question asked as he pushed his way to the bar.

"A fourth at bridge," quipped Brian. Passing Justin the shot of Beam, Brian rubbed his temples.

"You okay?"

"Tired."

Justin massaged his shoulder. "Ready to go home?"

"Not unless you are."

The Beam felt good going down but not as good as Brian would feel nestled in his throat. "I'm ready."

"God," complained Mikey, "what are you trying to do? Win 'Married Couple of the Year'?"

Em finished his drink. "When you've got someone to hit the hay with, why not go home?" He glanced at the pickings on the dance floor. "Slim but… what the hell? Toodle loo." And he waved and waded into the throng.

Saying their good-byes as well, the Kinney/Taylor-Kinney contingency vacated the premises for cozier environs. In the car, Justin curled up against Brian and waited for the heat to come on. Or not.

It had come on by the time they reached the house. Needlessly. Still, it was enough to fortify them on their brief sojourn from the Jeep to the kitchen door. Once inside, they leaned against the wall and kissed, energy restored. Separating to check the doors and set the alarms, they met at the front staircase and kissed again, softly for a moment, then climbed the spiral steps to the second floor. 

 

Not tired anymore despite having played for a half hour, they sat up and talked for a while, hoping sleep would creep up on them.

"So, are we inviting your dad for Thanksgiving?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because he's not used to being around a bunch of faggots."

Justin winced. "You don't have to put it like that." Even though he was mostly inured to Brian's bluntness, still it sometimes caught him off-guard.

"It's true."

"He was around us at my graduation," Justin reminded him.

"Years ago," countered Brian. Then he added, "Fuck, I can't believe how long ago that was." And even then Craig had managed to almost ruin everything with his attack on Brian, blaming him for Justin's bashing. Brian thought he'd forgive almost anything of Craig but that.

"He'll come and he’ll behave," promised Justin, knowing Brian had to be thinking about what an asshole Craig had been at Justin's graduation party. "Besides, Gus is really fond of him."

"Gus is fond of eating clay. I don't exactly trust his taste."

Sliding a leg over Brian's body, Justin purred, "Do it for me?" When Brian didn't answer, he climbed astride him and kissed his way up his neck. "Please?" Kissed his lips. "Please?"

Brian relented. "What's Thanksgiving without our resident homophobe?"

Justin jostled Brian. "He's not a homophobe."

"If the cross fits… burn it."

Laughing, Justin slid off Brian and laid on his back. "You're too much." Traced a vein in Brian's forearm with the tip of his finger. "You'll help me cook?"

"You've got my mom, your mom, Deb, Emmett, and Vic. You don't need my help."

Justin corrected one of his assumptions. "My mom's going to my grandmother's house."

Brian frowned, recalled a conversation they'd had last year. "Shit. We told her we'd go with her this year and take Gus, didn't we?"

"She's probably forgotten."

"Your mom?" Jenn had a memory like fuckin' Dumbo. Brian scratched his neck. "Think she'd buy it if we promised to do it next year?"

"What else can she do?"

"Do you want to go with her this year?"

"I want to be with my family."

"We could ask Lindsay and Melanie if we could take him but…"

Thanksgiving was less than four weeks away. "Kinda late to ask."

"Kinda."

"I bet Gus would like it though." Justin's face brightened.

"Once again, Gus likes eating clay. His expectations are sorta low."

"My grandmother would love him. Love you too."

He grimaced. "I'm not into old ladies."

Slapping Brian's arm lightly, Justin snorted. "You are so nasty."

"But I taste so good."

Settling down, Justin told him, "Go to sleep." The heart was willing but the body was exhausted.

Stealing a last kiss, Brian turned over and waited for Justin and Leo to take their places: Justin at his back and Leo curled next to the edge of the bed. 

 

 

Xavier paused by a poster tacked on the wall near their studios. Half-turned towards Justin who was walking with him and Rennie. "This your doing?"

"Diversity Council."

"Which means you," said Rennie.

According to the poster, the Institute was going to hold a Diversity Week in January which would showcase the talents of all the school's divisions. In addition to performances and exhibitions, there would be workshops and discussions focusing on the issue of diversity. The President of the Institute was going to hold a meeting next week that all faculty and students were to attend. At that meeting, he and the Deans would further explain what was expected of everyone.

"Guess this means we'll be working all break," Xavier complained.

"Less play time for you and your honey?" asked Rennie.

"No play time," he moaned. "This is going to be a showcase which means it has to be da bomb."

"Your work is always good," Justin assured him. "Besides, we've got the rest of November and half of December before the break."

"And you've got Thanksgiving to play," said Rennie. "Just store it up for the winter." She grinned. "Do like the squirrels do. Gather Ye nuts while Ye can," she laughed. 

 

 

Whenever they went to the park, Gus invariably made a friend—among the mothers of the children playing. And not for his sake alone, normally it was due to his daddies. Didn't matter if he went with one or the other or both. In fact, when he was with both of them, they seemed to get that much more attention despite the fact that it was obvious to everyone that the two men were a couple. This did not dissuade grown women from behaving like schoolgirls: giggling and fawning over them as if they were movie stars. Gus loved it, basked in the attention while his fathers did their best to endure the women until the little boy was ready to go home.

After the last such episode, Brian commented to Justin, "Maybe we should build him a playground in the back yard."

"You know you love it."

"Why can't some of the other dads bring their kids to the park?"

Justin laughed as he loaded Gus' car into the back of the Cherokee. "They do. It's just that they're straight and they're not interested in us."

"Their loss."

"Daddy?"

Checking the rear view mirror, Brian answered. "Yeah?"

"I want to play with Leo."

"We're going back home now."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

Justin smiled. More than anything, Gus was teaching Brian patience as the three-year-old had more questions than a round of "Jeopardy!"

"Is Nana coming?"

"Not this time."

"Why?"

"Because she has work to do."

"Where Nana work?"

"At home."

"We go see her?"

"No, she's busy."

Recognizing the tone in Brian's voice, Gus gave up his pestering and began pouting which made Justin laugh out loud. He was Brian's son all right. "Hey, Gus," Justin called.

"Yeah."

"Do you remember going to see Santa Claus last year?"

"Sana Claus!"

"Remember him asking you if you'd been good or bad?"

"No."

"Well, he did. And he's going to ask you this year too. Santa doesn't like it when you're bad. Or when you pout and cry either. Just like the song. _You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santa Claus is coming to town,"_ he sang.

Gus, who loved to sing, joined in. _"Sana Claus is coming to town!"_

"Oh, my aching head," whispered Brian. 

 

Nine hours later he was sitting in one of the armchairs in his room reading Goodnight Moon to the little boy, marveling that Gus would actually sit still for it.

 _"In the great green room  
There was a telephone   
And a red balloon   
And a picture of—   
The cow jumping over the moon."_ 1

Even though Gus' mommy and mama had read the book to him numerous times, he succumbed to its magic each time he heard the familiar stanzas. And he moved his fingers as if he were saying goodbye and said the words along with Brian.

_"Goodnight bears  
Goodnight chairs   
Goodnight kittens   
And goodnight mittens"_

By the time Brian got to the end, Gus was nearly gone but he managed to whisper the last few lines as his daddy read them aloud.

_"Goodnight stars  
Goodnight air   
Goodnight noises everywhere."_

Brian closed the book and carried Gus to his room and tucked him in. Leo leapt onto the bed and settled down as Brian found Beh and put him next to the little boy. He kissed his son on his forehead and left the nightlight on. Then pulled the door shut and went in search of his other little boy.

Found him in their room just turning back the covers. He was gloriously naked and Brian embraced him from behind and kissed his neck.

"Mmm," Justin murmured. "Gus asleep?"

"Knocked out for the night. I hope."

"We only need a half hour or so," teased Justin as he turned in his arms.

"I want the whole night," Brian told him, kissing his way up his partner's throat from his breastbone to his chin. He kissed his mouth, slipping his tongue between Justin's lips. His hands slid down the young man's back, traveling along his spine, coming to rest upon his buttocks. Brian cupped the mounds of his ass and sighed inside his mouth. "I love your ass," he whispered between kisses.

"What else?"

Brian combed his fingers through Justin's golden pubes before encircling his cock. "I love your cock."

Breathlessly, Justin asked, "What else?"

"Love your mouth," he replied and kissed him even harder until their lips started to swell. Breaking the connection, Brian lifted Justin up and eased him back onto the bed. Stood staring down at him, at his beautiful, lithe body. Justin, flushed from the attention, looked aside. "I love you," Brian said and Justin looked back at him. Then Brian began to undress.

Justin's heartbeat sped up as he watched Brain disrobe. Even though they'd made love a thousand times, he never failed to be excited by the prospect of touching Brian, of feeling him inside his body. He trembled as his lover dropped off the last piece of clothing and reached for him.

Brian raised Justin's foot and kissed his toes, his tongue slipping in between them. Kissed the bridge of his foot and around to his ankle. Kissed down his calf to his knee then raised the other leg and gave it the same treatment: toes, foot, ankle, calf, knee. He knelt by the side of the bed and drew Justin forward, the young artist's legs resting on either of his shoulders, and he kissed the inside of his thighs.

"Ah," breathed Justin and he reached out and touched Brian's head, ruffling his hair.

With Justin's legs raised and parted, Brian had access to his creamy buttocks, so he kissed them as well. Nuzzled around his hole, breathing air across the wrinkled surface, kissing the outer rim but foraging no further. Instead, he raised his head and opened his mouth, took Justin's sac between his lips and kissed his balls. Justin had shaved recently and they were smooth and pink and delicious.

Delirious with pleasure, Justin pressed down on his cock, offering it to Brian.

He accepted. Kissed the broad head. Rubbed the opening with the tip of his tongue. He nibbled around the edges before taking the entire head in his mouth to suck it. Let it slip free and kissed down and around the shaft while his fingers continued to ply the head. His tongue followed the large vein on the underside of Justin's cock. He paused where the shaft met his balls and sucked on the vein until Justin cried out. The head had swollen beneath his fingers and he felt a sudden stickiness as a bead of precum appeared at the tip. Spreading it over the head, Brian continued to lick the shaft. He could feel Justin's balls brushing against his chin.

Justin knew his cock was leaking. Brian always made him wet. Groaning, he willed Brian to go down on him. He felt as if his cock was going to explode if he didn't get inside his mouth soon.

Making his way back up the thickening shaft, Brian licked beneath the head, then licked along the slit. He heard Justin moaning above him and smiled. His baby was aching for his throat. Pulling him forward on the bed, cupping his buttocks in his hands, Brian swooped down on his cock and began to blow him.

"Yes… Yes!" Justin cried and whimpered as Brian sucked his cock. Every nerve ending in his dick was firing. Each time his cock head brushed against the roof of Brian's mouth, he wanted to scream. When it slipped into the depths of his throat, Justin groaned, thigh muscles tightening, ass tightening. Brian twisted his head as he sucked his little boy off. He tugged on his cock as he raised his head, his actions rewarded by the deep moan that erupted from Justin's belly.

Justin's legs began trembling even though they had nothing more to do than to lie across Brian's shoulders. He grabbed the comforter in his fists, his toes curled as if trying to grip a rug. "Oh! Oh!" he cried. "Oh! Brian! Brian!"

Brian bore down on him, clamped his lips around him about midway the shaft, and sucked hard.

"God!" He jerked and came, felt the first spurt leave his cock, then the second. He could feel his cock head rubbing against the roof of Brian's mouth, the hole spread open to release another slitful of cum. His dick was slippery with saliva and jizz but Brian maintained his hold until the last bit of spooge dribbled from the tip. Justin slumped to the bed, would have slipped from it except that Brian still held onto him.

He didn't release Justin until the young man's heartbeat slowed once more. Then, tenderly, he let him loose from the confines of his mouth. Laid him upon the bed and stretched out next to him and gently stroked his moist and still swollen cock.

Justin pulled Brian's head down and kissed him, tasting his cum on his lips. "Fuck me," he whispered.

"I intend to," Brian replied and he let his hand slip down between Justin's legs. Fingers wet with sweat and saliva and cum, Brian probed his ass until he found the opening that he sought.

When the finger entered him, he inhaled sharply, then sighed as Brian eased in further. They kissed as Brian fingered his ass, loosening him up, getting him ready for his cock. After a minute or so, the finger withdrew. Brian rolled over and opened the toy chest, took out the lube and something else.

"Close your eyes," he told his lover and Justin complied.

He didn't know what Brian had taken out of the trunk but he was already getting excited again. He could feel his cock stirring once more.

Brian moved him around on the bed and rolled him over onto his stomach, placed a pillow beneath him to raise his ass. Parted his thighs. Justin's balls were visible between his legs. Brian lapped at them briefly before turning to his main objective. Pressing on either cheek, he exposed Justin's pink hole. Burying his face between his thighs, Brian licked his lover's hole until it glistened. He could see and feel the edges contract and release. Could hear Justin breathing louder. As if starved for it, Brian ate out his hole, devouring it until the muscles relaxed enough for his tongue to slip inside. Curling the tip of his tongue, he listened to Justin moan in pleasure.

"Oh, God, Brian…" he whispered. His head was spinning. He thought he would pass out it felt so good. Again Brian's tongue dipped inside him and his pisshole opened and precum surged forth. He raised up a little, pushing his ass back, wanting Brian's tongue deeper inside him.

Brian reached beneath Justin, felt his cock. He was already hard again, already leaking again. His own cock was hard as stone. His balls were aching and he longed to fuck Justin senseless. But he had another surprise for his little boy. Tearing himself away from his ass, Brian picked up the two items he'd taken from the trunk. Flipped the top on the KY and lubed each of the anal beads on the string. Then positioning himself behind Justin, he pressed the first one against his hole.

Justin gasped as the bead spread the rim of his asshole. Brian pushed harder and the bead passed through the ring of muscle. They were both breathing rapidly. The second bead went in easier than the first and the third easier still. Brian continued until five beads had disappeared inside his little boy's ass. Then, grabbing hold of the ring that hung down against Justin's balls, Brian pulled.

"Ah!" Justin grunted as the first bead plopped out.

Brian reached down and stroked his cock. Precum wet his hand. He rubbed it on his belly and tugged on the ring. The second bead popped free and his cock throbbed. Precum bubbled at the tip.

Justin wriggled and gripped the pillow beneath his head as the third and fourth beads exited. As the fifth and final bead came free with a sucking sound, he moaned. He could imagine how his hole looked, the edges spread open, swollen red, slick with lube. The bed shifted and Brian's cock touched him. Justin cried out as the hard organ split him open even wider than the beads had. Brian paused with the head just inside him.

"You want it?" he asked gruffly, lust and desire thickening his voice..

"Fuck me," he groaned into the pillow and Brian pushed forward. The head hit his prostate and everything fractured into a million colors. When the world returned to normal, Brian was buried deep inside him.

He withdrew, just until his cockhead bumped Justin's prostate, and then he thrust forward. Listening to his lover beg him to fuck him, he continued to ply the swollen organ until Justin's pleas became incoherent. He pulled out entirely, then slid back in. Gave him a few inches. Backed up, just until the head remained inside. Fucked him like that for a few minutes, easy, no rush. Just in and out, swaying gently.

The change of tempo gave him the chance to catch his breath, to calm down and enjoy the ride. He was content just to kneel there and let Brian do all the work.

Placing his hands on Justin's ass, Brian felt him up as he fucked him. He knew how much Justin loved to have his ass touched as they fucked and he heard him sighing now. Brian let one hand slide down further, catch hold of Justin's balls. He stroked them as he rocked against Justin's ass.

God, it was getting close again. Brian was playing with his balls and it felt so good. He laid his head against his arm and concentrated on not coming. It was too soon. He wanted to be fucked all night. He wanted Brian to fuck him raw, to leave his hole stretched out and dripping with cum. Moaning, he tried to clear his mind. That image wasn't helping him keep his cool. After a while, Brian released his sac and he gave a sigh of relief. Maybe now—

Brian buried his cock all the way inside Justin and withdrew completely. Plunged back inside and withdrew again. He could see the edges of Justin's hole trembling in between thrusts as he punch fucked him.

A cry tore from his lips. "Oh, God," he groaned. "Oh, God…"

Cock back inside, Brian leaned all the way over Justin and began humping him. Fast. Hard. His dick only moved a few inches in either direction. His balls slapped against Justin's ass, the noise punctuating the sound of their breathing.

Justin's mouth fell open and for the next few minutes he didn't know what he was saying. Words issued from between his lips but they were divorced from any conscious thought. All he was aware of was Brian's cock slamming into his ass and his own cock throbbing beneath him. it was rubbing against the pillow Brian had put underneath him and he was grateful for the softness because he was harder than he'd ever been.

He rode his lover's ass with abandon. Cushioned between the velvety smooth walls of Justin's hole, Brian lost himself in the movement of his hips, compelled by the need to come. In and out, in and out, he fucked Justin's ass, grunting as he shoved his cock deeper, harder. Suddenly his balls felt like they were being twisted and then he shouted in relief.

Brian was coming inside him and he welcomed it as it gave him permission to come as well. Hole tightening in a series of spasms, his balls emptied themselves once more. He could hear Brian crying out as his asshole gripped his dick. Yeah…

Justin relaxed as he finished coming. Brian was inside him and it felt amazing. He lay still, savoring each moment, until Brian pulled out.

Going back on his knees, Brian looked out of half-lidded eyes at Justin's hole, cum staining the edges. Gently, he touched the opening with his fingers, let them sink inside, and heard Justin sigh. 

 

 

After the Olympic efforts of the previous night, there were aching muscles enough to go around in the morning: they were sore, tired, and stiff.

Brian groaned. He didn't want to think about being hard for at least a few days. His cock felt like it was going to fall off and, at this point, he didn't think he'd mind so much. He brushed Justin's hip to wake him up and heard his partner hiss and warn, "My ass is sore."

Gently, Brian kissed his neck and said, "Trust me, I'm not up to anything beyond opening my eyes."

Justin turned gingerly over onto his back. "I asked for this, didn't I?"

"Begged for it."

"I didn't really think you could get it up that many times in one night."

"I think I was using a cock crane by the last go round," Brian joked and then his head whipped around. "Shit." Gus. He could hear him running across the floor. "Oh, I am so not ready for this," he moaned.

Trying to turn over on his side so as to keep Gus from bouncing on top of his stomach and thus putting pressure on his tender parts, Justin grunted with the effort. "I’m never letting you near my ass again."

"Promises, promises."

Gus pushed open their door and came barreling into the room. They'd tried to get him to knock and wait for their permission but he was as of yet too young to have that lesson engrained in him. Seeing Brian, he called, "Daddy!"

Bracing himself for the impact, Brian watched while Gus climbed onto the bed and stood upright, jarring them all. He walked over and sat on Brian's lap.

"Ooo," he moaned and gritted his teeth while moving Gus onto the bed between him and Justin. Before Gus could complain, he gave him a kiss and asked, "Did you and Leo have good dreams last night?" The cat curled up at Gus' feet.

"I dreamed about, about ice cream!" Gus yelled.

Leaning over to kiss him too, Justin laughed. "You can't have ice cream for breakfast," he replied, heading off Gus' question.

The little boy pouted. "I want ice cream," he said sadly.

"Later. After lunch maybe," Justin told him, no promises. " 'kay?"

"Okay." Gus brightened and got up on his knees and bounced. "Daddy!"

"What?" asked Justin.

Gus wrinkled his nose and giggled. "You stink."

"I smell like Daddy," he said and Brian laughed. There was probably enough of his cum up Justin's hole to make that a true statement.

Brian rubbed Gus' back to get his attention. "How about you go and find something to wear today while we take our shower?"

"I want shower too," Gus complained. He loved dancing around in the shower while they bathed.

"You had a bath last night. Now, go find something to put on." Muscles protesting, Brian lifted him up and kissed him before putting him on the floor. "Go," he told him.

Calling to the cat, Gus marched off to his room, mouth in a hard line.

"He's yours all right," Justin said, then threw back the covers and wrinkled his nose. "I do stink."

Brian leaned over and kissed him. "My favorite scent," he said, following his nose to Justin's belly which was streaked with Justin's cum. He extended his tongue to take a taste.

Against his better judgement, Justin felt his cock stir. Pushed Brian's head away. "You're evil."

Grinning, Brian eased from the bed, glad of Justin's refusal. He didn't think he could make good on his apparent offer even if he tried. 

 

In the weeks to come, they would look back on this weekend as being almost perfect. Despite being tired and having to run after Gus, the two men savored each moment as if, somehow, they knew the days ahead would bring their share of trouble. 

 

 

"Hey, Bledsoe, what's this?" Justin asked as he put down his stuff and picked up an envelope that had been taped to his drafting board. He and Bledsoe still shared a space since there was a shortage. Bledsoe was used to him ("Don't have to train a new guy," he'd said.) and, besides, Justin was hardly ever in the space except between classes.

His studio mate looked around the partition. "I don't know. Found it on the floor when I got here. Somebody must have slipped it under the door."

Perching on his seat, Justin tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter that was inside.  
 _  
"Obviously the little talk we had with you didn't convince you of the seriousness of our position. Make Diversity Week disappear or we may have to perform a little magic act of our own."_ It was printed on a sheet of plain laser printing paper. Could have been typed on any computer in or out of school. No way to trace it. The missive shook in his hand. There was no mistaking the message they'd intended to send: _Shut up or we'll shut you up._ It was as plain as if they'd written it in invisible ink and he'd waved a flame beneath the paper.

Bledsoe called from his side, "What was it?"

He folded it up and slipped it back into its envelope. "Chain letter."

Snorting, Bledsoe said, "I hate that shit. I'm glad they sent it to you then. I don't need anymore bad, fuckin' luck."

The assembly was tomorrow. He was slated to appear on the stage with the Deans and the President of the Institute. They hadn't asked him to say anything but it was hoped that his appearance flanking the podium would send a message to the student body that this was more than just extra work, this was something important. Justin laid the envelope back on his drafting board and eyed it as if it were a poisonous viper coiled to strike. He'd given his word to the Dean of his division. Given his word to Annabelle that he would represent the Diversity Council on stage. He'd started the entire ball rolling. How could he back out now?

He couldn’t. Taking the letter in hand, he grabbed his bag and headed out.

"You gone?" called Bledsoe.

"Yeah, I'm going home. Later."

"See ya."

Instead of going directly to the Cherokee, he made a detour to the restroom. Shut himself inside one of the stalls. Tore the letter into a dozen pieces and flushed them down the commode. As he watched them swirl in the water, he vowed never to mention the letter to Brian. He would be on that stage tomorrow. Nothing and no one would stop him.

Only he didn't feel so confident walking to his car. Despite being outside in the open (no more cutting through the Bunker for him) he felt as if someone was watching him. The feeling didn't leave him until he pulled into the driveway of the house and saw Brian's Jeep parked by the garage. Resisting the urge to unburden himself to his husband, he went inside and walked upstairs to find Brian still in the process of changing clothes.

When Brian heard him coming, he paused in the act of slipping on a t-shirt and embraced his young husband, shirt dangling from his hand. Kissed him soundly. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Thought you were working late at school."

Justin ran his fingers through the nape of Brian's neck. "Changed my mind."

"Hungry?"

He took the t-shirt Brian was holding and dropped it on the bench then unbuttoned Brian's jeans. Cocked his head with a smile. "Starving." 

 

He lay in bed waiting for room service to arrive. Brian had called for take-out and was downstairs paying for it. Justin didn't feel like moving and didn't intend to for the next hour or so if he could help it. Yet, despite having come home and made love, he still couldn't get that note out of his head. He knew the right thing to do would be to discuss it with Brian but he couldn't. Brian would overreact, demand that he drop out of the planning for Diversity Week and that wasn't an option. He couldn't let the faceless "them" win. Even if they did oppose Bush (and he certainly did as well), he couldn't condone their methods. Intimidation made them no better than that asshole in office. What good did it do to condemn him and then employ the very same methods to achieve your goals?

Brian came in bearing dinner on a tray. "You look like you've got more than Chicken Vindaloo on your mind." They'd ordered from their favorite Indian restaurant, best chicken dishes in town. "We eating at the table or in bed?"

Justin made room on the bed but removed the wine and glasses from the tray before Brian sat it down. "I wasn't thinking of anything in particular."

"No?" He fussed with his pillow until it was just right and he could lean back against the headboard. "You're not thinking about what you're going to say tomorrow?"

"I don't have to say anything. I feel kind of weird," he confessed. "I mean, I'm not even the chair of the Diversity Council."

"But Diversity Week was your brainchild," Brian pointed out.

"No," corrected Justin, "it was yours." He reached for Brian's hand and kissed his fingers. "I told the Dean that. He remembered that you were an advertiser."

"You told me."

Sheepish, Justin grinned. "He didn't even blink when I said my husband came up with the idea."

"Got the ring…" Brian said, stretching out his fingers before freeing his hand from Justin's.

"Got the man," said Justin, squeezing his knee.

"You'll do fine. You always do." Brian smiled at him while tearing a round of naan in half and giving Justin part.

"You mean I can actually have some this time?" Brian was a notoriously selfish consumer of naan. Most of the time Justin only managed to get a scrap—if he was lucky. He wondered what had changed.

"There's another round downstairs," Brian confessed.

"You." Justin pushed at his arm.

"Don't worry," Brian told him, "I'd give you half of anything I had."

Justin smiled softly, then poured a glass of wine. 

 

_He was walking through the Bunker. It was late and the lights were flickering on and off. Although there were no puddles in the Bunker, he stepped in one, disturbing the smooth surface. He heard a noise and turned. Nothing. Turned back around. The Bunker seemed to stretch before him for miles. He quickened his pace. Heard another sound. Whipped his head around to check. Again nothing. He walked faster, began to jog a little. Instead of getting closer to the end, the more he ran, the further the tunnel extended._

_The noise he heard returned. Previously unidentifiable, he could now tell what it was. Footsteps. Following him. But whenever he turned around, he saw nothing. Still the footsteps continued their pursuit. Growing louder. Closer. The sound of the footsteps warred with the beating of his heart. He had to get out of the tunnel. But the end was so far away. So far away._

_The footsteps sounded like they were right behind him. He didn't dare look around, could only keep running, hoping that eventually he made it to the end, to the door, to freedom._

_He ran. Ran without looking behind him. Was afraid to now as his pursuer sounded as if he were right on his heels. Frantically he scanned ahead. He had to be getting closer to the end of the tunnel. But the footsteps kept getting closer. Closer. He was terrified. Didn't want to look around but he had to, had to see how close they were to him. He could almost feel the breath on his neck. ___

__He turned and a flash of light streaked across his vision. Something struck him in the forehead and then everything went black._ _

__He sat up in bed with a shout. _Oh, God. Oh, God. Where was he?__ _

__Brian jerked awake. "Baby?" Saw Justin sitting up, chest heaving as if he'd just run a three hundred yard dash. When he reached for him, Justin jerked away. "Justin, what's wrong?"_ _

__"I…" Justin tried to catch his breath. "I just… It was a dream."_ _

__"Nightmare, you mean."_ _

__"I'm okay."_ _

__Brian took in the fine sheen of sweat on Justin's face. "You remember what it was about?"_ _

__He shook his head, lying. Laid back down and allowed Brian to pull the covers up over him and to kiss his forehead._ _

__" 'Night."_ _

__" 'Night." As he closed his eyes, he wondered what tomorrow would bring._ _

__

__

__Xavier walked with Justin towards the auditorium. "You nervous?"_ _

__He shrugged. "Not like I have to make a speech."_ _

__"What if they ask you to say something?"_ _

__"Guess I'll come up with something then. I've been married to Brian long enough to BS my way out of almost anything," he bragged._ _

__His friend laughed recognizing a huge pile of crap when he heard it. "You let His Big and Badness hear you say that, you'll be in trouble."_ _

__Snickering too, Justin was almost looking forward to the assembly when he remembered the letter he'd received. Instantly, his features darkened._ _

__The change did not go unnoticed. "What's up?" Over the course of their friendship Xavier had learned to read Justin's every mood._ _

__"Nothing."_ _

__Xavier called him out. "You lying like a rug."_ _

__"It's nothing."_ _

__"Then why did you shut down just then?"_ _

__"Xavier—"_ _

__"Brian know about it?"_ _

__"I don't have to tell him everything," Justin replied huffily._ _

__With a whistle, Xavier said, "It must be a biggie if you lying to him too."_ _

__"I'm not lying to him."_ _

__"Omitting to tell the truth is a lie too, you know." Xavier glanced sidelong at Justin. "So what's up, J?"_ _

__Justin took a deep breath. In some ways, telling Xavier was just as bad as telling Brian. Despite the fact that they no longer had a sexual relationship and regardless of the fact that Xavier was seeing Trey, they still had a connection and Xavier would probably react just as badly as Brian. He'd been ready to go kick some ass too when he'd seen Justin's face after the attack in the Bunker._ _

__"J?"_ _

__"I got a letter."_ _

__"From who?"_ _

__"Don't know." Added, "The same people who ambushed me I suppose."_ _

__Alarmed, Xavier asked, "What'd it say?"_ _

__"Basically to forget about Diversity Week if I knew what was good for me."_ _

__Blowing out a stream of air, Xavier asked, "And you didn't tell Brian about that?"_ _

__"There's nothing he can do!"_ _

__Justin's outburst attracted the attention of some other students who were headed towards the auditorium as well. He and Xavier moved off into a side corridor._ _

__"J, if you keep this from him and he finds out, he's gonna be pissed. And I don't fault him."_ _

__"He's not going to find out," Justin assured him. "The only way he could find out is if you or I told him. And we're not going to tell him, are we?"_ _

__Xavier threw up his hands. "My name is Wes and I ain't in this mess. You all on your own."_ _

__"I thought you had my back," joked Justin._ _

__"You know I got your back," said Xavier, dead serious. "But if something happens to you—"_ _

__"Nothing's going to happen to me."_ _

__"If something does and Brian finds out you—we lied to him? Man, it's gone take Nana Rose to keep him from kicking both our asses."_ _

__Justin smiled. "I can handle Brian."_ _

__That made Xavier laugh again. "Either you been gettin' shermed out or you been hitting skins something serious."_ _

__Which made Justin laugh outright. "What can I say? He loves my ass," and he sauntered off assuming Xavier would follow._ _

__Even though he wasn't hittin' it anymore, Xavier could understand where Brian was coming from: Justin had one great ass._ _

__By the time they got to the auditorium, Rennie had already arrived and saved Xavier a seat. Justin looked around for the Dean, spotted him, and walked over to where he stood when the man beckoned. The Dean paused in his conversation with President Thornton to introduce Justin._ _

__"President Thornton, this is Justin Taylor-Kinney," Justin smiled, "one of our best and brightest over in Fine Arts."_ _

__"Mr. Taylor-Kinney."_ _

__Justin took his hand. "Sir."_ _

__"Dean Waltrip tells me Diversity Week was your idea."_ _

__"Actually," Justin explained, "it was my husband's."_ _

__"And what does he do?"_ _

__"He's an advertiser."_ _

__President Thornton slapped Justin on the back. "Maybe you can convince him to do some pro bono work for us."_ _

__"I can try." As they took their seats on the stage, Justin felt better than he had in days. He'd been sure he'd pushed it when he'd mentioned Brian but the President's reaction told him that he'd done the right thing. After all, wasn't that what Diversity Week was all about? The right to be different? Beaming one of his brightest smiles, Justin relaxed. Maybe this was going to work out after all._ _

__

__There was a message from Brian on his cell phone when he checked it saying he'd be late that evening. Had some emergency hand holding to do with a nervous client, so dinner was a no-go. At loose ends, Justin made a snap decision. He hadn't seen his dad in a while and he hadn't broached the subject of Thanksgiving with him so there was no better time than the present._ _

__He called ahead to make sure Craig was available, then arranged to meet him for dinner at this restaurant his dad really liked. They'd gone there on Craig's birthday once before he and Jenn had split up. Back when they'd all pretended that they were one, big, happy, upper-middle-class family._ _

__As he gave his dad's name to the maitre d', Justin looked around, taking in the somber, staid surroundings and realized that was the probably the reason why his dad liked it so much: it reeked of respectability. Brian wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that unless he was wooing a client. And a very old, unhip one at that._ _

__He followed the maitre d' to where Craig waited and took the chair the man offered. Took the menu as well._ _

__"Enjoy."_ _

__"Thanks," he replied; then, "Hey, Dad."_ _

__"Justin. I'm glad you called."_ _

__"No hot date tonight?"_ _

__Craig grinned. "What can I say? Your old man is slowing down." He looked up as the waiter appeared. "Scotch on the rocks. Justin?"_ _

__"A glass of merlot. Thanks."_ _

__The man went away to fetch their drinks._ _

__"So how's Brian?"_ _

__Not wanting to laugh, Justin held it in for about two seconds, then chuckled. "That almost sounded unrehearsed."_ _

__"Well?" asked Craig, waiting for an answer._ _

__"He's fine. Gus is fine too. He asked about you the other day."_ _

__"Oh really?"_ _

__"He misses his Granddaddy Craig." The waiter returned and Justin waited until he'd put down their drinks and taken their dinner orders before continuing the thread of the conversation. "You should give him a call sometimes."_ _

__"He's a good kid."_ _

__"When he's not being bad," Justin said, shaking his head. The things Gus managed to get into. "Well, maybe not bad. Just… energetic."_ _

__"You were a holy terror when you were a little boy," Craig told him._ _

__Justin's voice went up an octave. "Me?"_ _

__"Yes, you. You started walking and all bets were off."_ _

__"Well, Gus is exactly like Brian. He wants his own way all the time and when he can't get it, he pouts. He's into everything. If you want him to stay out of something, you have to lock it up." Justin laughed. "We left the—" stopped. That was probably not a good story to tell right now. Especially since Gus had come downstairs waving around a ten-inch dildo and almost caused Brian to choke on his chewing gum. Justin had laughed so hard his back and sides had hurt._ _

__"Left the what?"_ _

__Maybe Craig would be satisfied with a partial answer. "The chest at the foot of the bed, we left it unlocked once and Gus got into it."_ _

__Craig didn't see the crime. "So? What's in there? Blankets and stuff?"_ _

__"Ah… no." Cheeks warming, Justin really hoped Craig dropped it._ _

__The man saw the way Justin avoided his eyes. "I shouldn't ask, should I?"_ _

__"No," laughed Justin. "Maybe not."_ _

__Taking a sip of his drink, Craig said, "So, why'd you want to see me?"_ _

__"Cause I haven't seen you since Gus' birthday party."_ _

__"And?"_ _

__"And I wanted to know if you were coming to Thanksgiving at our house."_ _

__"Is that an invitation?" asked Craig._ _

__"We decided to forgo the formal, engraved ones," he joked._ _

__"How'd you talk Brian into inviting me?"_ _

__"I didn't have to."_ _

__It was Craig's turn to laugh. "That almost sounded convincing. But not quite."_ _

__Justin confessed. "He was a little leery at first but then he agreed. After all, Thanksgiving is for family and you're a part of my family."_ _

__"Will his friends be there?"_ _

__"You mean our friends? Which ones?"_ _

__"The ones who were at your graduation party."_ _

__"Yeah. Ted, Emmett, Michael, and Jeff. Deb and Vic too."_ _

__"Who's Jeff?"_ _

__"Michael's boyfriend." Justin waited for his father to turn down the invitation._ _

__Raising his glass again, Craig finished his drink and wished he had another. "I'll think about it."_ _

__"Which means no," Justin said, disappointed and not bothering to hide it._ _

__"Which means I'll think about it," Craig reiterated. "I'm not a monster, Justin."_ _

__"I know that."_ _

__"I'm just…"_ _

__"Slow?" Justin volunteered._ _

__"Cautious," Craig offered instead. "The world's changing a lot faster than I am. And not always for the better."_ _

__"No," agreed Justin, "but it's all we have. So we have to deal with it, the good and the bad."_ _

__"So I'll think about it," said Craig and that was all he would promise._ _

__

__As he had hoped, Brian was at home when he got there. He'd already changed and was stretched out on the sofa with a folder stuffed full of papers. A sandwich sat on a plate which was perched on his lap. On the table within easy reach was a bottle of beer. Justin leaned over and kissed him._ _

__"How'd it go?"_ _

__"What? Dinner?" He'd left Brian a note on the fridge about where he'd be._ _

__"Yeah and the assembly thing you had." He put aside his work and concentrated on the sandwich._ _

__"I could fix you something else to eat," Justin offered._ _

__"I’m not really hungry. So spill."_ _

__"The assembly went okay. I didn't have to say anything so that was cool."_ _

__"Just sat there and looked pretty."_ _

__"And," continued Justin, ignoring his husband's comment, "I got to meet the president of the institute. When I told him that Diversity Week was your idea and that you were an advertiser, he said maybe you could do some pro bono work for the school."_ _

__Brian snickered. "I'll take it out in trade."_ _

__"My ass is already yours," Justin pointed out._ _

__"Who said anything about your ass? I'm looking for greener pastures."_ _

__"You're looking to be part of a pasture, pushing up daisies," warned Justin. Even though he knew Brian was joking, he didn't care much for the joke. Reminded him too much of the old days._ _

__Setting his sandwich on the table and pulling Justin over onto his lap, Brian bestowed a huge kiss upon his lips. He'd seen the fire of jealousy flare up in Justin's eyes and wanted to reassure him that no one would or could ever take his place._ _

__"So how about we work out the details of this trade?" Justin asked when he could._ _

__Brian dumped him back onto the couch. "I think I need to keep my options open."_ _

__Shoving him, Justin laughed. "You!"_ _

__He finished chewing, asked, "What'd your dad say about Thanksgiving?"_ _

__Justin took a swig of Brian's beer. "Said he'd think about it."_ _

__"He's not coming," Brian said, taking his beer from Justin._ _

__"Whether he does or not, we'll still have a fabulous Thanksgiving."_ _

__"Are we planning on running away by ourselves and having Thanksgiving at some ridiculously romantic country inn somewhere?"_ _

__Justin was confused, Brian knew their friends were coming over. What was he talking about? "No."_ _

__"Then you and I have drastically different definitions of fabulous."_ _

__

__Although he'd done a good job of not thinking about the threatening note all day since the assembly, when they retired to their room, it emerged from the recesses of his mind to loom ahead threateningly. What if he had another dream? Brian wouldn't believe the two dreams weren't connected and he wouldn't believe Justin didn't remember anything about them._ _

__More than that, the idea that he was lying to Brian by not telling him about the note bothered him. Xavier was right. But if he told Brian, he could already foresee the argument and he didn't want to fight anymore with him about this, didn't want to spend any more days not talking either._ _

__"Somebody's gerbil is working overtime," teased Brian when he saw the furrow in Justin's brow._ _

__He settled down on his side of the bed and waited for Brian to get in too. Spent a moment stroking Brian's thigh seemingly absentmindedly. In reality, he was trying to put him in the best possible mood to hear his confession. Unable to put it off any longer, he said, "I… someone sent me a letter yesterday."_ _

__The muscles in Brian's belly tightened but he endeavored to remain calm. "What kind of letter?"_ _

__"Telling me to drop Diversity Week."_ _

__"Or?" There was always an or, implied or stated implicitly._ _

__"Or basically I'd be sorry."_ _

__"You show it to the Dean?"_ _

__"I flushed it down the toilet." He watched his husband nod slowly, knew what he was doing. He was counting to ten and visualizing pleasant scenes, all the things Drew had taught him to try and manage his temper. And none of it was working._ _

__"Justin, goddamnit." Brian paused and reached for his young love, drew him into his arms. More than giving a lecture, more than blowing up, this was what he wanted: to hold Justin and to keep him safe. "Be careful."_ _

__"I promise."_ _

__Looking at him directly, he added, "And don't keep things from me."_ _

__He was grateful that Brian didn't call it what it was: lying. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to worry."_ _

__Brian didn't tell him that he worried regardless. Ever since Justin had been attacked, he'd worried about him. And now his brilliant idea was backfiring all because the Institute needed a poster boy for Diversity Week._ _

__"I'll be all right," Justin assured him._ _

__"Not as long as you're in the public eye."_ _

__"There's no need for me to be now that the assembly's over. I can go back to being just another student."_ _

___Fat chance_ , thought Brian. "Until Diversity Week rolls around and you go back to being the face of diversity."_ _

__"I'll make sure to lay low."_ _

__Although he didn't want to upset Justin, he couldn't lie to him either. "There's nothing you can say, no promise you can make, Justin, that'll keep me from worrying about you. These assholes…"_ _

__"It's too late to call it all off."_ _

__"I know. That's what worries me the most." He just hoped that they weren't like Chris Hobbs, pushing and pushing until they pushed too hard. At least with Chris Hobbs, Justin's tormentor had had a face even if the people around Justin had ignored his complaints. That was the one thing for which Brian thought he'd never forgive himself. This time around, he didn't know who to watch for and he couldn't be with Justin all the time even if he did know. Brian slipped an arm around Justin's shoulders and held him, saying nothing. He had to have faith that things would work out for the best. Only, he'd never been too good at leaving things to chance as chance had usually ended up kicking him in the ass._ _

__

__

__Nothing made Brian's morning like tearing apart one of Bob and Brad's so-called brainstorms. Unless it was tearing apart one of Darren Johnson's. Today, he was afforded a special treat: an ad created by the entire untalented triumvirate. How three people could work on an ad and still come up with a complete piece of shit wasn't exactly a mystery especially when you considered who the three people were. He was just about to whip out his special red pencil when Jennifer Taylor entered the room. The smile that he was about to greet her with disappeared when he saw the look in her eyes. She was upset. That was probably an understatement. Affecting a cool demeanor, he said, "This is a surprise. I guess I've done something wrong," he added, referring to the times when she'd stormed into his office to bitch at him about Justin._ _

__"What are you going to do?"_ _

__"About what?"_ _

__"These threats." She didn't bother to sit and he didn't ask her to. He knew she wouldn't. When she was agitated, she rarely sat, preferring to stand in order to either tower over him or to make a quick escape, maybe both._ _

__"He told you about the letter."_ _

__"And I saw the bruises. You can't let it happen to him again, Brian. Not again."_ _

__"It" was, of course, the bashing at the prom. "I don't intend to," he told her. "But there's not a whole helluva lot I can do about the situation."_ _

__"Talk to him."_ _

__"I've talked to him! And unless you want me to chain him to the bed and throw away the key, I can't do anything else but talk. He's a grown man, I can't tell him what to do."_ _

__"You're his partner—"_ _

__"Which means what?"_ _

__"Which means he has to think of what's best for the both of you."_ _

__"And I have to do the same thing. And," he admitted, "I don't see how trying to stop him from doing something he believes in is the best for us."_ _

__"And if he dies?"_ _

__"Don't," he said, looking away from her, away from the spectre that haunted his thoughts whenever he'd allow himself the luxury to even think about Justin dying._ _

__"I have to think about that. He's my son."_ _

__"And he's my husband. You think I love him any less than you do?"_ _

__"I didn't mean that."_ _

__"I tried to guilt trip him into stopping and he hated me for it. We didn't talk for three days. I can't do that anymore." He stared at the mockup in front of him without really seeing it. "The only thing I can do is to trust him."_ _

__"And trust that he doesn't end up in the Emergency Room again," she added, turning to leave. Displeased to say the least._ _

__"Jenn." He walked over to her, a feeling of helplessness dogging his every step. "What do you want me to do?"_ _

__Frustrated that she didn't have any answers either, she replied, "I don't know. I just… I can't—"_ _

__He embraced her, knowing the fear she felt was akin to his own. "I won't let anything happen to him. Not if I can help it."_ _

__"I know," she confessed, the fear loosening its hold on her somewhat. But they both knew that it was out of their hands. All they could do was hope._ _

__

__

__Even though he knew it was driving Brian crazy just to be in the store, Justin held up a few silk burgundy roses and asked, "What about these?" He was looking for flowers for the Thanksgiving centerpiece he planned on creating._ _

__Taking a deep breath, Brian swallowed his first response which was, _"Like I give a fuck_ , and, instead, said, "They're fine. The last ten flowers you've shown me were fine. Just make up your mind and let's get out of here before I take up needlepoint." He was proud of himself for not using any four-letter words or variations thereof as the ladies in the store had looked over at him disapprovingly the first time he'd sworn earlier in the expedition._ _

__"Keep your pants on," Justin told him. Ignoring the Dirty Harry look Brian was giving him, Justin went back around and picked up some of the flowers he'd scoped out the first and second go-rounds. Within minutes he had the ingredients for a beautiful bouquet, resplendent in fall colors: burgundy, deep gold, orange, and even eggplant. That done, he searched for the perfect pot or vase, found one of amber glass that would blend in perfectly with the rich appointments of the dining room._ _

__At last they checked out and left the store, ignoring the whispering that followed them as they exited._ _

__"You'd think they'd never seen queers before," Brian quipped._ _

__"In that place?" said Justin. "Please, they're tripping over them. They've just never seen queers as beautiful as us."_ _

__Brian laughed and kissed Justin as they neared the car. "That's my Baby."_ _

__They were having to do a lot of their running around this weekend because next weekend they would have Gus and a three-year-old was no one's idea of a perfect shopping companion. Even compared to Brian. After they left the crafts store, they went to the Big Q to buy a card table and chairs to use as the children's table at dinner. Brian was all for going to a more upscale establishment and purchasing an expensive set but Justin convinced him of the futility of that plan._ _

__"They'll grow out of it and then we'll be stuck with an expensive set that we don't need."_ _

__"What about the babies?"_ _

__"What babies?"_ _

__"The ones Lindsay and Daphne are gonna have someday."_ _

__Justin shrugged it off. "That's someday. And this set will last that long."_ _

__"God, you're tight," Brian commented._ _

__And Justin grinned. "Just the way you like me."_ _

__It amazed him sometimes that he was able to get Brian to do something as domestic as buying flowers. Looking back at their lives, at where they started, to have even imagined that they could come this far had been quite a feat. But he had imagined it. Maybe not under the exact circumstances but he'd dreamt many a night that he and Brian would marry and have a home of their own and do things normal couples did even if they'd never be a normal couple and never did anything in the normal fashion. Today's expedition had proven that. No matter what, they'd always be who they were and that suited him just fine._ _

__He loved walking into a store with Brian and watching heads turn, no matter the reason. Sometimes he could tell they were outraged by the fact that they were gay. And together. Other times people—both men and women—were impressed by one or the other or both of them. He'd caught more than one person checking out his ass or watching Brian saunter by unaware of their scrutiny. Maybe not unaware, just unconcerned. He was used to people looking at him, assumed they were, and was rather put out if he didn't garner the attention he felt he deserved._ _

__As Brian closed the back of the Cherokee, Justin grinned at him and slipped his hand inside his front pocket, feeling the other man's cock; he knew every bump and ridge, every vein intimately. Brian raised a brow. "Sex break?"_ _

__"Sex break." He just hoped they could make it home._ _

__Or find a deserted street._ _

__

__

__He saw it before he saw Justin. Bent down and picked it up before his friend could beat him to it and deny its existence._ _

__"Give it here," said Justin, walking up to his door._ _

__Xavier held it out, but did not surrender the letter. "Open it."_ _

__"I intend to." He snatched it out of Xavier's hand, getting angrier by the moment. Goddamnit, he'd wanted this to be over and he'd just gotten Brian calmed down and—_ _

__"Right now. And read it. Out loud." Xavier folded his arms and waited._ _

__"What the fuck are you talking about?" Instead of one of his best friends, Xavier was suddenly acting like a concerned lover and they were no longer lovers, hadn't been for a long time._ _

__"I don't want you lying to me, so I figured I'd save you the trouble. So read it."_ _

__Pissed but nearly dying of curiosity, Justin tore open the envelope and read the letter silently. Xavier reached for it but Justin held it out of reach._ _

__"What does it say?"_ _

__His face was ashen. "It says, 'No more warnings.' "_ _

__"What does that mean?"_ _

__"What the fuck do you think it means?" He was livid, wanting to strike out at anyone and, unfortunately, Xavier was there. Xavier had stuck his nose in where it didn't belong and now he was going to reap the benefits._ _

__"You telling Brian?"_ _

__"Are you crazy?" Brian would freak out, would lock him in their suite and throw away the key. He'd be a bird in a gilded cage with all the most up-to-date modern conveniences. Except freedom._ _

__"Then I'm telling him."_ _

__Justin was certain he'd just lost his mind. "What?"_ _

__Speaking clearly, Xavier repeated himself. "I said, I'm telling him. He's your husband and he deserves to know."_ _

__"Since when have you given a shit about Brian?" Which was unfair but fuck fairness._ _

__"Since you picked him over me and he still tried to slit his wrists." Xavier screwed up his face. "If something happens to you, it'll kill him."_ _

__He wanted this conversation to be over. "I don't need you to tell me about Brian! I know him better than anyone."_ _

__"Then act like it, goddamnit. Be a man. You hide this from him, you ain't nothing but a punk."_ _

__Justin shoved his friend. "Fuck you!"_ _

__With arms hardened from swinging a hammer against stone and from soldering bars of iron together, Xavier grabbed Justin with very little trouble. "Fuck you, you little asshole. All you care about is yourself." He let go of him with a hard push that made Justin thud against the wall. His piece said, Xavier stormed off._ _

__Crushing the letter into a ball, Justin gritted his teeth. He wanted to hit something, someone. All he'd done was to try and do something right, to help someone and it had all gone to hell. Thomas had quit PIFA, Brian was worried about him dying in some tunnel, and now Xavier was mad at him. Unlocking the studio, he stomped inside and kicked the door close. "Fuck!"_ _

__

__

__Although they'd known that keeping Gus the weekend before Thanksgiving would be a headache, they'd done it anyway, wanting to spend as much time with the toddler as possible before the big day. Mistake. Enormous mistake. He and Leo seemed to run on pure air and they did laps inside the house like it was Le Mans._ _

__Justin, to Brian's way of thinking, wasn't much better. Despite having planned for the dinner for the past two weeks, Justin found a thousand and one things that had to be done this last Saturday before T-Day. Trying to keep out of his way—and to keep his mouth shut—Brian spent a lot of time in his study fiddling with his camera equipment. Lindsay expected a buttload of pictures and he aimed to please. Of course, he was constantly interrupted by Justin paging him on the intercom regarding some emergency or another. Which usually turned out to be a tempest in a teacup. Justin had to be the world's biggest Drama Princess. He was more than a little relieved when Justin informed him that he had to go out and pick up something he'd forgotten during one of their numerous shopping expeditions. Kissing him goodbye, Brian found Gus and Leo nodding on the sofa and carried the little boy up to his room for a nap. Silence having descended upon the house, Brian decided to get forty winks himself. Almost instantly he fell asleep._ _

___Having slept for a half hour, he awoke and got up, confused about the day. For some reason he'd thought it was the day before Thanksgiving and that Gus was asleep in his bed but when he checked the tot's room, it was empty. As it should have been on one of the weekends when he didn't visit. Scratching his head, Brian wondered where Justin was and then remembered that he had gone to the Institute to pick up something he'd forgotten on Friday. Justin was always forgetting something somewhere. Brian was just glad he'd bought him the Cherokee. Saved him having to give up the Jeep for one of Justin's errands. Or worse, having to go with him as, invariably, their trips together involved Justin showing him something they just had to have for the house. Brian couldn't remember the last time he'd bought himself something truly spectacular. Maybe it was time to remedy that._ _ _

___Since it was getting close to lunchtime, Brian checked the fridge to see if they had any leftovers. Nothing. Not really in the mood to cook, he decided to wait for Justin and hope his spouse had been intrepid enough to pick up something on the way home. Then, not wanting to leave things to chance, Brian plopped down on the couch and dialed Justin's cellphone. It rang and no one answered. Finally the service came on and he frowned. Where the hell was Justin and why wasn't he answering his cell?_ _ _

___Putting that mystery aside for the moment, he went back into the kitchen and slapped together a bargain basement turkey sandwich. Beer in hand, he returned to the family room and put his feet up on the coffee table. Flipped on the television and watched a Cary Grant film on TCM. Justin would probably be home soon enough. In the meanwhile he'd watch Cary and Ingrid Bergman cope with her marriage to a Nazi._ _ _

___Notorious went off and another Cary Grant movie came on. Still no Justin. Just as he was about to dial his cell again, he heard the doorbell. Jesus, he hoped it wasn't Lindz wanting him to baby-sit. He loved Gus but he really wasn't in the mood today. But it probably wasn't her, she usually called first to make sure he didn't have other plans. A holdover from his party days, he guessed, when she couldn't be sure he'd be at home. Or unoccupied._ _ _

___Dragging himself to the reception hall, he decided to forgo the intercom. Threw open the front door and found two policemen standing on the other side of the threshold. Any snide comment he'd been about to make died on his lips. In fact, he couldn't speak at all. It felt as if his entire body had been frozen in nitrogen. Except for his heart. It raced at about a thousand miles an hour._ _ _

___One of the officers spoke. She looked young, probably just out of the academy. She had blue eyes. Like Justin's. "Sir, are you Brian Kinney?"_ _ _

___He found his voice. "Yes."_ _ _

___"And you live here with a Justin Taylor-Kinney?"_ _ _

___Lips quivering, he nodded instead of speaking._ _ _

___The man, older with a grim look on his lined face, said, "We're sorry, Mr. Kinney, but—"_ _ _

___He walked away from them._ _ _

___"Sir?" the female officer called._ _ _

___He kept walking. Maybe if he walked far enough, he could move beyond the pain. But he knew that wasn't possible. So he paused by the fountain and waited for them to come in and tear his house down. Before they could tell him, he asked, "How?" One word but it took all of his strength to voice the solitary syllable._ _ _

___The man answered his question. "He was attacked. He was…" the man looked down at the water running over the edge of the red basin of the fountain. "He was beaten to death."_ _ _

___The world tilted at a crazy angle and Brian fell to the floor, grabbing at the edge of the fountain, his fingers splashing in the water which had suddenly turned red._ _ _

__"No!" he yelled, coming awake all of a sudden. Cold sweat beaded his brow and his chest worked furiously. The comforter was gnarled in his fist. "Oh, God," he moaned and covered his mouth. He trembled, unable to shake the dream. For a moment he hadn't been sure what day it was, had been certain that it wasn't the Saturday before Thanksgiving and that Justin wouldn't be coming back. A tear ran down his cheek and he wiped it away. He ached, ached as if he had answered that door and had heard that Justin had been beaten to death. Ached because the dream seemed to have the force of prophesy and he was all too afraid that one day he would open the door and everything would crumble down around him._ _

__

__Justin's excitement aided him in his ruse, as he groused and pretended to assume the mantle he normally wore at the holidays. Namely that of a Scrooge who'd never been visited by the spirits. Only today he had an extra reason for being in a bad mood: the dream. It still caught him unawares at the oddest moments and forced him to make excuses for why he suddenly had to go do something in the other room. Once out of Justin's sight, he would shake until he thought he'd fall apart._ _

__He didn't know what to do. He'd promised Justin that he'd let him deal with the problems at the Institute and he wanted to keep his word. He believed in Justin, believed that he was capable to handling his issues but, at the same time, he was terrified. Still, he had to trust Justin to do what was right not only for himself but for them both._ _

__"You okay?" Justin asked, having found Brian seated on the back staircase staring out at nothing through the open side door._ _

__"Just resting."_ _

__"You've been kinda quiet."_ _

__"You talk enough for the both of us."_ _

__Justin felt his forehead then leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. "What is it?"_ _

__"Nothing," he lied._ _

__Figuring Brian would tell him when he was ready, Justin let go. "So what do you want for dinner?"_ _

__"I'm not really hungry."_ _

__"Turkey sandwich?"_ _

__"No," said Brian a lot more forcefully than he'd intended._ _

__Justin stared at him. "You gonna tell me what it is or do I have to drag it out of you?"_ _

__"I told you—"_ _

__"Yeah, I know, it's nothing."_ _

__Before he could quiz Brian any further, Gus came running up with Leo down behind him. "Daddy, I'm hungry."_ _

__"You want a banana?"_ _

__The little boy shook his head. "Hot dog."_ _

__Taking Gus' hand, Justin promised, "This isn't over."_ _

__Brian hadn't thought so. He knew how Justin got when he thought Brian was keeping something from him. He was worse than a hyena: he'd clamp his jaws and wouldn't let go. Brian supposed his tenacity was one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with him. So what should he tell him? If he told him the truth, they were only liable to get into yet another pointless argument. However, if he lied, and Justin found out—as he would eventually—then they'd have two arguments: one about Diversity Week and another about Brian having lied to him._ _

__About to come out of his skin, he went upstairs and changed into his running clothes. Stopped by the kitchen to tell Justin he was restless and was going out. Gus, of course, wanted to go too but Justin distracted him with the promise of a ride around the neighborhood tomorrow morning on his trike._ _

__Brian sliced through the early evening with the ease of a phantom. The sun had almost set so he was doubly glad he'd worn his pullover with the reflective stripe around the chest and back. Justin had insisted he buy the damn thing once he'd begun entertaining the idea of running in their neighborhood instead of on his treadmill. "I don’t want a cop showing up at our door telling me you've been flattened by a Beemer."_ _

__At the time he'd laughed off Justin's concern but had gotten the damn pullover anyway to appease his partner. So why couldn't he ask Justin to do the same thing: to take precautions? Only he had asked him to do that and Justin had promised. What more could either of them do?_ _

__Putting those thoughts from his head, he concentrated on his run. When he was younger, running was one of the ways he had escaped his problems, whether he was playing soccer or just doing laps around the track. To know that there was one thing he controlled: his body, had been a powerful tool against despair. Even after going ten rounds with the old man, he could put on his running shoes and do fifteen miles and he'd feel less confined. Not quite free, but it would come. While he was running, he could assure himself that one day he'd be free._ _

__Now he was free, free of Jack but he still had plenty of other problems to keep him running. Namely, what to do about Justin._ _

__He gradually slowed down and then jogged in place for a moment before stopping entirely. There was no way in hell he wanted to tell Justin about the dream he'd had but what other choice did he have? If he lied to Justin now, eventually his partner would find out and they'd have an even bigger argument. But if he told Justin about the dream, the young artist would probably feel guilty that he'd caused Brian such pain. If only that were enough to change his path, but it wasn't. He'd feel guilty and he'd deal with the guilt but it wouldn't stop him from going forward with his plans for Diversity Week. The event had begun to take on the air of inevitability._ _

__Justin and Gus were seated at the table eating when he returned from his run. Yelling that he'd join them after his shower, he went upstairs and stood under the water just long enough to wash the stink from his body, then hastily dressed in a pair of lounge pants sans briefs. They hadn't turned on the central heating yet but they did light the fire in the family room fireplace most evenings to take the chill out of the air so he didn't bother putting on any shoes or a top with sleeves. Hoping against hope that he didn't have to actually eat a hot dog for dinner, he came down the stairs to find Justin at the grill turning over a steak. Obviously for his husband as it was still rather rare and Justin refused to eat steak that wasn't a second away from shoe leather._ _

__Pecking Justin on the cheek with a, "Thanks, Baby," Brian went in and found Gus still seated at the table munching away on his second hot dog. Leo sat in an empty chair next to him and Brian suspected that despite their warnings to the contrary, the toddler had probably fed Leo some of his food after Justin had gone into the kitchen._ _

__With crumbs falling out of his mouth, Gus said, "Hi, Daddy."_ _

__"Hey, Sonny Boy. That good?" Gus nodded and continued eating. As he watched Gus consume his fries and franks, Brian thought about what his life might have been like without Justin. He doubted he would have ever been any kind of father to Gus if Justin hadn't been there to add his nudging to Lindsay's. There wouldn't have been any taking Gus to see Santa Claus or reading him bedtime stories or riding around the neighborhood on his tricycle. There wouldn't have been any neighborhood as Brian wouldn't have bought a house. He'd been more than content with his loft. But with Gus and Justin needing additional space, the loft had been woefully inadequate to house their family._ _

__Their family. There wouldn't have been a family without Justin. Without being aware of his actions, he screwed his face up in pain._ _

__"What is it?" Justin asked as he brought in his steak. "And don't tell me it's nothing."_ _

__Brian looked down at his plate. "Mind if we talk about it later?"_ _

__"Promise?"_ _

__He looked up again. "Promise." There was no point in hiding what had become painfully obvious._ _

__After dinner and cleaning detail, they all three curled up on the sofa and watched "Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown." Gus loved it, as did Justin and, secretly, Brian. Laughing uproariously as Snoopy wrestled with a lawn chair, they even sang "Over the River" with the Peanuts gang. At least Justin and Brian did, Gus didn't know the words. Pointing to the screen at the dinner Snoopy served, Gus asked, "We eating popcorn?"_ _

__"Tonight?" asked Justin, amazed that Gus could be hungry after putting away two hot dogs and a hand full of fries._ _

__"Thanksgiving," the toddler told him._ _

__Justin smiled and Brian bit his lip. After all this time, Justin's smile still had the power to make him feel hopelessly in love. "No," Justin told Gus. "But we're having turkey, and mashed potatoes, and corn, and green beans, and salad, and apple pie, and chocolate cake—"_ _

__"Yea!" yelled Gus who loved chocolate cake almost as much as his daddy did. "Leo have some cake?"_ _

__"It'll make his tummy hurt," Justin said. "He can have some turkey though. I bet he'll like turkey."_ _

__"Yeah," said Gus, stroking the cat's fur until Leo purred._ _

__"Ready for your bath?"_ _

__"Daddy get in?"_ _

__Lifting him in his arms, Justin said, "I'll get in." He glanced over his shoulder at Brian. "You coming?"_ _

__"Just took a shower," he replied._ _

__"Daddy, come on," ordered Gus looking most petulant._ _

__Brian shook his head. "You go ahead without me."_ _

__Accepting his answer as final, Justin carried Gus upstairs. Leo decided to forgo the stairs for now and curled up next to Brian to sleep._ _

__With Leo as his only companion, Brian tried to come up with a way to tell Justin the reason why he'd been so morose. More than facing that challenge alone, he struggled to find a way to free himself from his dream, from the fear it had instilled in him. He couldn't lose Justin._ _

__Gus looked up and waved as Brian came into the bathroom. He and Justin were still playing in the tub and he was hopeful that his other daddy had come to join them. But Brian merely sat on the toilet top and watched them with a wistful smile on his face. After a few minutes, he left._ _

__That was Justin's cue to call a halt to playtime. Against Gus' wishes, he opened the drain and got out. Dried Gus off first and then himself; gave the toddler a hand with his pajamas; and got Gus to help him clean up the bathroom. With the room somewhat in order, he tucked Gus into bed and read to him for a while, the little boy's attention flagging until his lids closed and he was asleep._ _

__The lights were off except for two lamps on the nightstands. Brian was sitting in bed with the covers pulled up to his waist. He drew them back on Justin's side and waited for his husband to join him. Stripping off his sweats, Justin got in and kissed Brian's shoulder._ _

__With no preamble, Brian began to explain. "I had a dream. That you had died. You were killed." He added, "Murdered." Glanced away. "You'd been beaten to death."_ _

__"Brian…" Justin felt chilled by Brian's words. No wonder Brian had been freaked out all afternoon. "It was just a dream."_ _

__"It's not just a dream!" he said hotly. "I watched him hurt you."_ _

__Chris Hobbs._ _

__"But I'm still here."_ _

__"Until the next time."_ _

__"There won't be a next time."_ _

__Brian ran his hand over his jaw. "I know that nothing I say will make a difference."_ _

__"That's not—"_ _

__"So I won't bother." He stared down at his hands, imagined a razor being drawn down his forearms, blood staining his skin._ _

__As if he knew what Brian was thinking, Justin slipped his arms around him. "I would never leave you behind," he told him._ _

__Brian pulled away and left the bed, grabbed his robe and walked out onto the loggia despite the chill in the night air. He heard Justin open the door and close it behind him and averted his eyes, not wanting his partner to see the gleam in them, knowing Justin would correctly deduce that he'd been on the verge of tears. But Justin knew anyway without seeing his eyes and gently stroked his arm._ _

__"I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But you taught me to stand up for myself—"_ _

__"That wasn't me."_ _

__"Yes, it was," he insisted. Then explained, "Loving you gave me the courage to do a lot of things that maybe I wouldn't have on my own." Lifting Brian's head by the chin, he said, "I need to do this. It's just as important as you walking into the prom not knowing what would happen."_ _

__"And look what happened." A baseball bat to the head._ _

__"We got together." Justin smiled and wiped a tear from Brian's cheek with his finger but Brian couldn't return his smile and he knew it. "Come back to bed."_ _

__"I'm not sleepy."_ _

__Giving Brian a very different smile, Justin said, "I didn't say anything about sleep."_ _

__Still, Brian resisted. "We haven't settled anything."_ _

__"I know." Drawing Brian's head down, he kissed him softly. "Can't we fight tomorrow?" he asked, running his fingers over Brian's bearded cheek. He knew how calming his touch was to Brian so he continued until the man sighed and held open the French door for him._ _

__

__

__Lying to Brian was not one of his favorite pastimes but if he told him about the second letter, there was no way in hell Brian would allow him to continue with Diversity Week, no way in hell he'd let him go off to the Institute by himself on a Sunday afternoon. Ignorant of the letter's existence, Brian, however, did not stop Justin from leaving his perfectly fine studio in their perfectly beautiful house no matter how strange it seemed to him._ _

__Brian supposed that Justin needed a change of scenery. He often did himself when it came to work. Inspiration didn't always strike in his office. Sometimes an idea came to him as he showered or as he drove to pick up Gus or as he walked to a nearby deli for lunch. He expected it worked the same for Justin. So he only kissed his partner goodbye and went upstairs to his study where he began going through a pile of art and photography magazines that he'd been meaning to peruse. Now that both Justin and Gus were gone, he thought he might actually get through them._ _

__As it usually did whenever he had a moment of peace to himself, the phone rang. Maybe it was Justin calling to see if he wanted him to pick up anything on the way home although they could have gotten it when they took Gus back to the Munchers. "Yeah?" he asked, flipping through a cover story on Cindy Sherman._ _

__"Brian," hesitation, "this is Xavier."_ _

__"I recognized the voice. What's up?" He tried to keep the tension out of his voice. After all, they were on friendly terms despite the fuck-ups of last year._ _

__"Look, Brian, J's in trouble."_ _

__Instantly, he was alert. It often amazed people that Brian could go from 0 to 60 in less than five seconds but he was always ready, for whatever, full of kinetic potential. "What do you mean?"_ _

__"He got another letter from those assholes who threatened him."_ _

__"When?"_ _

__"Wednesday." Xavier knew that Brian's brain would be furiously working, trying to come up with a plan of action. "He'll be pissed as hell that I dropped the dime on him but I thought you should know."_ _

__"You read it?"_ _

__"He wouldn’t show it to me but he told me that it said, 'No more warnings.' "_ _

__"Fuck." Brian stood and began pacing, then stopped, making himself stand deliberately still even though his heart and mind continued to race about madly. "You at the Institute?"_ _

__"Not for long. I'm going out with Rennie."_ _

__"You see Justin?"_ _

__"Earlier. That's why I called. I figured he hadn't told you about the letter."_ _

__Even though he wanted to scream, Brian said quite calmly, "Thanks. For letting me know."_ _

__"He didn't mean to lie to you," Xavier explained. "He just wanted to take care of things himself."_ _

__"Yeah," Brian said, then nothing more. No one had to analyze Justin's actions for him._ _

__The conversation was over. As Xavier closed his cell, he wondered if he'd done the right thing. Justin would explode when he found out what Xavier had done but if it saved him from another extended hospital stay, so be it._ _

__Long legs covering the distance in a few steps, Brian grabbed a jacket from the closet and headed downstairs taking the stairs two at a time. He was going to find Justin and when he did—He took a deep breath. _Calm down, Kinney. You can't kill him._ No, he couldn't kill him but anything short of that was definitely on his "To Do" list. _ _

__He'd only been at the Institute for a couple of hours but he was already missing Brian and so he packed his stuff and got ready to go. Also, he was beginning to regret his decision not to tell Brian about the letter he'd received. It was eating him up inside, lying to Brian. They'd promised to be honest with one another about everything, yet here he was withholding vital information. No matter his reasons, he was wrong and it was time to right that situation. Just as he was about to sling his bag over his shoulder, the door opened and he knew that time had run out._ _

__Four people stood between him and the only exit out of the studio. They varied in height and weight but all had the same faces: George Dubuya Bush. He felt as if he were trapped in a Fellini film where the absurd suddenly became but a reflection of reality. His heart pounded against the walls of his chest and he wondered if he would have the chance to tell Brian he was sorry. With that thought, fear became anger._ _

__What right did they have to dictate to him? To try and intimidate him? To try and ruin not only his work at the Institute but his life with Brian as well. No one was going to do that, not as long as he could draw breath. Furious, he shouted, "Who are you? Show your faces!"_ _

__They did not speak, only took a step forward. Involuntarily, Justin stepped backwards, then stopped._ _

__"Fuckin' cowards! Hiding behind masks. Why don't you show yourselves?"_ _

__Brian came running towards the closed door when he heard Justin's voice. He started to tear it open when Justin spoke again._ _

__"Look at you. You're like children, playing at some game."_ _

__"This is no game," one of them said. A man._ _

__"So why act like little kids? Why not talk to me?"_ _

__"We've tried. You wouldn't listen."_ _

__"I wouldn't be threatened. Or dictated to. There's a difference."_ _

__His hand flat on the door panel, Brian debated his options. If he rushed in to save Justin and he didn't need saving, Justin would be angry beyond belief. But if hesitated and something happened to Justin, he'd never forgive himself. He trembled, terrified by his indecision._ _

__Inside, Justin continued to speak. "Whatever happened to free speech? The right to express yourself? That's what artists are supposed to fight for. Even if you don't agree with what's being said."_ _

__"Why should we?" Another voice this time, still male but different from the first. "They don't listen to us. They don't care. So why should we?"_ _

__"Because if we don't, then who'll speak for us when we can't?"_ _

__Brian smiled softly. That was his partner._ _

__"It's not about the people on either end, it's about the people in the middle. The ones sitting on the fence. The ones who are afraid of being noticed, of speaking out. If we show them that we care, then maybe they'll begin to care too. And maybe instead of sitting on the fence, they'll join us. But if it's a choice between the lesser of two evils, then they'll always be afraid, they'll always stay out of the fight. And we can't do it alone."_ _

__"That's easy for you to say."_ _

__"Is it?" He pointed to a faint scar on his forehead. "That's where he hit me. I'll carry that scar for the rest of my life. And deal with the headaches and the dreams and the fear. You think I didn't feel hatred? I wanted to kill him. I wanted to make him pay for what he'd done to me."_ _

__"So you forgave him?"_ _

__"I try. Every time I think about him I try. Maybe someday I will. But I can't punish everyone, I can't hate the world for what one person did to me."_ _

__Inside the studio, one of the quartet of masked vigilantes said, "Maybe you're right." He paused. "I'm sorry."_ _

__Justin nodded. "That's a beginning." And waited._ _

__The young man reached up and pushed his mask back over his head._ _

__Taking a deep breath, Brian turned from the door and walked away. Justin could handle things without his help._ _

__

__Over dinner, Justin told Brian about the second letter and the day's confrontation. "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want you to worry. And after that dream you had, I couldn't tell you about the letter." Thinking Brian would be mad at him, Justin was surprised when he took his hand and entwined his fingers with his._ _

__"I heard you today. In your studio. Talking with those kids."_ _

__"How did you—"_ _

__"Xavier called. Told me about the letter and I went barreling down there to save you." He kissed Justin's fingers. "But you didn't need saving. I'm proud of you." He smiled ruefully. "You're a good man. A strong man." Brian started to withdraw his hand. "I guess I'll have to learn to let go."_ _

__But Justin retained his grip on his hand. "Don't. Don't ever let go." A smile lit his face and the room. "Maybe you could hold on a little less tightly though."_ _

__"It's a deal."_ _

__Justin grinned. "Except when we're fucking," he added._ _

__"Goes without saying," Brian replied._ _

__"Speaking of which—"_ _

__"You're always speaking. How about you shut up and we do this?" He stood and tugged on Justin's hand._ _

__Laughing, Justin said, "How romantic," but he allowed Brian to pull him from the table and into his arms. Which was where he always wanted to be._ _

__

__

__Justin's last minute errands yesterday had him tired even after eight hours of sleep. He'd taken Wednesday off to help his spouse and had regretted it as they "popped into" yet another store on Justin's endless quest for a suitable punch bowl. Nothing would do but that he find the exact punchbowl he'd envisioned in his head despite the fact that his vision was rather myopic. Finally, Brian had suggested they visit the shop where they'd purchased Molly's chocolate set._ _

__The owner still was a queen and he still had the best instincts in the world when it came to satisfying Justin's vague decorating desires. "I've got just the thing," he'd said and he disappeared into a room and brought out a punch bowl with twelve cups. The bowl had reminded Brian of nothing so much as a giant tulip, opened completely. However it was shaped, it apparently fit Justin's requirements._ _

__"It's perfect!" he had exclaimed, having a queenie moment big time by Brian's estimation. Still, he'd been happy that Justin was happy. Seeing Justin smile went a long ways towards brightening most of his days and for that he was grateful._ _

__This morning, however, the bright smile that greeted him was, in his opinion, way too bright for this early in the day. Brian shielded his eyes and groaned. "I need a drink."_ _

__"How about mimosas?" asked Justin. "And a couple of Belgian waffles?"_ _

__"On Thanksgiving? I'll explode by the time the day is over."_ _

__"We're not eating dinner until three. Come on." He tugged on Brian's arm. "You can make the mimosas while I cook."_ _

__Brian pulled Justin back down for a very long and intense kiss. "Breakfast in bed?" he asked as his partner began to stroke him, Brian having enflamed his passions._ _

__"Breakfast in bed," Justin agreed and then reluctantly left off stroking Brian's cock. The sooner they fixed their meal, the sooner they could come back and eat and play._ _

__

__"Lie still," Justin ordered and Brian endeavored to do so but the syrup his lover had poured over his cock tickled on the way down his shaft and he giggled a little. Which didn't make Justin's job of topping him off with whipped cream any easier. Finally, he managed to spoon a dab onto the tip of Brian's dick. It remained in place for a moment and then slipped down the already sweet shaft. Giving up, Justin put aside the bowl of cream and concentrated on enticing Brian to give up a little cream of his own._ _

__As Justin's lips slid down his shaft, Brian moaned. _Fuck yeah.__ _

__Justin was in heaven. If there was anything better than Brian's cock on its own, it was Brian's cock covered in blackberry syrup and whipped cream. Justin licked and sucked and lapped Brian's dick clean, then picked up the small pitcher of syrup and poured more over the throbbing length._ _

__Brian could feel the syrup and cream seeping down over his balls, down between his cheeks. Christ, he couldn't imagine what it would feel like when Justin's tongue started cleaning him up down there. As is, he couldn't hardly think with Justin's mouth roaming over his cock._ _

__Running a finger through the cream, Justin applied it to the tip of Brian's dick, making sure his slit was well-covered. Then he closed his lips tight around his shaft and sucked him hard, tongue lashing the swollen head until Brian started bucking beneath him. Instead of releasing him, he only redoubled his efforts until Brian began producing syrup of his own. A gush of precum mixed with the cream making Justin moan around Brian's dick. He let the head free, then rubbed it over his lips, his tongue flickering over the hot and sticky surface, before taking it back inside. He wanted to feel Brian's cock head bump against the roof of his mouth._ _

__Brian arched his back, sliding his cock deeper inside Justin's mouth, then cupped his balls and tugged down on them. He was so close to coming and he wanted to keep going, snared by Justin's talents._ _

__Having cleaned his cock of syrup and cream, Justin had Brian turn over and raise his hips. Then, his lover spread out before him, he licked his ass, tongue digging in his sticky hole, lapping over his balls. He licked a trail between Brian's balls and his hole, then spent no few minutes teasing his ass, the tip of his tongue playing in the folds until Brian's breathing quickened and his hole began to spasm. While he pleasured Brian, he was all too aware of his own hard-on, bouncing before him, precum dripping from the tip. Giving it a few strokes, he let go. He didn't want to drop his load on the bed. He wanted to fuck Brian and come in his ass, come up his hole, come on his ass, and rub his cum into his skin, mixing it with cream and syrup._ _

__Brian shuddered as Justin rubbed his cock up the crack of his ass. The head pushed against his hole and he moaned and felt the opening pucker up even more. Then he felt a finger touch the center of his hole and push. He gripped the comforter and tried to relax as Justin slowly opened him up._ _

__"You're so tight," Justin whispered. "Let me in."_ _

__Brian groaned and felt his hole give and Justin's finger slip inside. At first it stung as his body adjusted and then as his hole relaxed, he grew hungrier and wanted more._ _

__Supporting himself on one elbow, Justin lay above and slightly to the side of Brian, his right leg over Brian's left, and worked his finger in and out of his hole. After a while, a second finger joined the first. He felt Brian tense and then it seemed as if his lover's entire body opened up to him. Fingers slick with lube and syrup and cream, Justin pleasured his man, responding to the sighs and cries that Brian uttered as he shivered on the bed. Sometimes he went deep inside his ass, down to the last knuckle, savoring the moist warmth of husband's body; other times he merely entered him enough to hook his fingers on the rim of his ass. No matter the depth, it gave him great pleasure to know that he was the reason Brian was trembling, shaking, and groaning._ _

__Brian reached back and caught Justin's arm. He was panting so hard, he could barely speak._ _

__Justin leaned closer and licked his neck. "What?"_ _

__"Fuck me."_ _

__He wiggled his fingers inside Brian and listened to him cry out. "You want me to fuck you?"_ _

__"Yes," came the breathy response._ _

__Justin climbed onto Brian's back, parted his legs and positioned his cock against Brian's hole. Rotating his hips, he ground his cock against the wrinkled opening until it was wet with his precum. Then he pushed._ _

__Brian's hole stretched to accommodate Justin's girth. He felt dizzy, filled with Justin's cock. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't feel this: Justin's breath on his neck and his dick lodged in his ass. It made him feel alive._ _

__

__"Is everything perfect?" Brian asked as Justin surveyed the dining room. They had the table set for twelve and had the children's table dressed as well for three. In anticipation of having more guests than available services, they'd decided to put their everyday dishes on the kids' table as they wouldn't notice or care. They'd also been saved in that Jeff couldn't make it. He was out on assignment and wouldn't be back for days, which meant they had just enough places at the main table for all their guests. If Craig showed up. Which both of them doubted._ _

__Rather than dwelling on that, Justin asked, "You think Gus is gonna sit at the table with John and Peter?"_ _

__"I think he'll probably end up in my lap," as that was the little boy's favorite place in the world to be._ _

__"Tell him he has to be a good host."_ _

__"Speaking of which," said Brian, "I'd better check the wine."_ _

__"And the turkey," Justin added, following him out of the room. While Brian assayed the amount of wine in the beverage center, Justin peeked inside the oven. So far so good. It only had an hour to go and then they could take it out and let it rest while their guests munched on appetizers. If everyone arrived when they were supposed to._ _

__"Are you kidding?" asked Brian. "Those freeloaders won't pass up an opportunity to eat us out of house and home."_ _

__"They're not coming empty-handed."_ _

__"We'll see." He couldn't resist adding, "What's your dad bringing?"_ _

__"Hopefully a better attitude."_ _

__"Dreamer." If there was anyone more bad-tempered than himself now that Jack Kinney was gone, it was definitely Craig Taylor._ _

__"Just don't antagonize him, okay?"_ _

__"I'll be a perfect angel," he said, his smile like a country back road._ _

__"I'll settle for half the asshole you normally are."_ _

__"Hey. I thought you liked me being an asshole."_ _

__"No, I like your asshole."_ _

__"No, you love it." Least that's what Justin had said that morning as he'd pumped him._ _

__"That I do," smirked Justin._ _

__"Then be nice or you won't get any tonight."_ _

__"You mean you're up for more?" He thought he'd done a pretty good job of fucking Brian this morning and that Brian's ass would be sore for days._ _

__"Bring it on, little boy," Brian told him and cupped his crotch, feeling the fullness there. He kissed Justin, slipping his tongue inside his mouth._ _

__"If you get me hard, you'll have to take care of it before our guests get here."_ _

__Unzipping Justin's pants, Brian grinned and went down on his knees. Not a problem._ _

__

__Mel and Lindsay were the first to arrive as Gus couldn't wait any longer to see his daddies. And Leo. After quickly kissing Brian and Justin, Gus ran upstairs to find the cat. They figured they see him again when he got hungry._ _

__"I've been replaced by a cat," Brian moaned._ _

__"Everybody loves pussy," joked Mel earning her a groan from both Brian and Justin._ _

__"What can we do?" Lindsay asked, cheeks pink, hoping to divert the conversation before it ventured too far down the yellow, smut road._ _

__"Sit down, have a drink, and relax," replied Justin._ _

__Brian brought in a tray of crab puffs hot out of the oven. "Eat." The doorbell rang. "Too late. Michael and Em are here. You had your chance." He went to let in his friends and, as he'd predicted, it was Michael and Em and Ted, followed by Vic and Deb, all with their hands full. Not far behind were Joanie, Claire, and the two offspring of Satan. Joanie was toting a cake carrier, protecting it as if it were the Pope's staff. "Chocolate?" he asked her hopefully._ _

__"Chocolate chocolate chip. Your favorite."_ _

__"I love you."_ _

__Joanie's eyes misted. "You know, when you were a little boy, that's the only time you'd tell me you loved me. When I made chocolate chocolate chip cake." She smiled despite the twinge of pain. "I guess it was the only time you probably felt I loved you."_ _

__Brian leaned over and kissed her. "Doesn't matter anymore." Caught his sister's eye. "Sis."_ _

__"Thanks for having us."_ _

__"Actually, I'm planning on having turkey but if you want to gnaw on one another, be my guest."_ _

__Claire popped his arm. "Brian."_ _

__"Hey, demon spawn," he said to his nephews._ _

__"Brian!"_ _

__"Hey, Uncle Brian," said Peter, echoed by John._ _

__"Gus is upstairs if you want to go hang out in his room."_ _

__With the kids taken care of for the moment, the adults divested themselves of the items they'd brought and then gathered in the family room to talk while Brian and Justin got busy heating the things that needed heating before putting all of the food in their serving dishes and loading up the cart to take them to the dining room. They'd purchased the cart in anticipation of Thanksgiving to see if it would suffice or if other arrangements might be necessary. Fending off offers of aid from their guests, they scurried past them and into the dining room. They worked quickly and within minutes the food was put out: main course items on the table and dessert on the buffet. In addition to Joanie's cake there were Lindsay's pumpkin and apple pies and pecan pies Em had made using his Aunt Lula's famous recipe. When everything was ready, they called in their guests. Brian flicked on the intercom and buzzed Gus' room._ _

__Even though Gus couldn't operate the intercom, he could hear his daddy talking to him and listened to what he told him before acting. Herding his cousins downstairs, he ran into the dining room excitedly and stood amazed by the food and shiny glasses and silverware. He patted Brian's leg and said "Pretty, Daddy."_ _

__Brian knelt and hugged him. "It is pretty, isn't it?" Justin had done a fabulous job. He showed Gus the kiddies' table and the little boy sat down in his chair and called his cousins over. Despite the teasing he'd endured at their hands on his birthday, he seemed to be willing to forgive and forget and had let them play with his toys upstairs—although he'd been careful not to let them touch his favorite ones and Leo remained off-limits._ _

__"Oh, my God, everything is so beautiful," Deb exclaimed as the grown-ups seated themselves around a table that sparkled with crystal._ _

__"That's what money can do," Ted commented._ _

__"Not money," Brian corrected, "taste." He looked Ted's outfit up and down. "Something you seem to be woefully lacking in."_ _

__Justin poked him in the side. "Be nice. It's Thanksgiving."_ _

__"Okay," Brian said, "I'm thankful I have better taste than Theodore and my hope is that he'll eventually learn from my fabulous example."_ _

__Ted forestalled any further interference from Justin by saying, "It's okay. In a strange sort of way, I welcome his put-downs. Least it shows he cares."_ _

__Once everyone had taken their seats, Justin stood and began to speak. He was much better at the touchy feely stuff than Brian and the man was happy to let him do the welcoming duties. "We're really glad you could all join us for—" The doorbell rang. He exchanged looks with Brian who raised a brow and gestured towards the front door. Justin went to answer and found Craig standing outside looking rather sheepish. "We didn't think you'd make it," Justin told him._ _

__"I fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm clock." He handed Justin a bowl. "Cranberry relish. The lady at the gourmet shop said it was the best."_ _

__Justin squeezed his dad's arm and led him to the dining room. "Come on, we were just about to start." Craig took his place in the chair they'd left empty for him next to Justin and nodded his greetings to everyone else. Handing off the relish to Brian, Justin waited until his spouse had placed it in an empty serving bowl before starting again. "We're really glad you could all join us for Thanksgiving, for the first Thanksgiving in our house." He smiled. "It's been a great year and we're glad you could come and celebrate with us."_ _

__Brian thought about Kenneth and what had happened in Birmingham, thought about Justin being attacked at school and, amazingly, those things didn't seem to matter. Not today. He smiled as he took in their faces._ _

__"Lindsay started a tradition two Thanksgivings ago that we'd like to continue. So we're going to go around the table and have everyone say what they're thankful for this year. And, no, Brian, your cut on Ted doesn't count," he said before Brian could ask. When the laughter died down, he sat and got the ball rolling. "I’m thankful that I have a husband who loves me enough to let me be the person I need to be." He added, "Even if that person is a pain in the behind," in honor of Thanksgiving, "sometimes."_ _

__"Sometimes?" asked Brian and they all laughed. There wasn't a person in the room, except maybe Craig and Claire and her bunch, who hadn't seen Brian and Justin go ten rounds at the drop of a dime. And it wasn't always Brian's fault. A two drama queen household made for some interesting encounters._ _

__Other highlights included Michael's, "I'm thankful Jeff decided to stay in Pittsburgh, even though he's not here today and we haven't had sex in two days."_ _

__Mel called to Brian, "Do you even know what that feels like?" and he made the sign of the cross to ward off evil._ _

__Before Brian got in his thanks, they did the kids and Gus amused everyone when he said he was thankful that his Daddy had bought him a new toy._ _

__Giving Brian the eye, Lindz demanded to know what he'd bought him since his birthday had only been two months ago. "You spoil him," she told him._ _

__So Brian huffed and said, "Show them your toy, Gus."_ _

__The little boy took a puppet out of his pocket and put it on his finger. Giggled as he wiggled the finger puppet tiger around and growled._ _

__Face reddened, Lindsay laughed into her napkin._ _

__At last they'd gotten to Brian. As he had in previous years, he put all jokes aside and spoke from his heart. He could do that with these people, with his family. After years of hiding, he could finally be who he was, no excuses, no masks. "I'm thankful for a lot of things but I guess the one thing I'm most grateful for," he paused, "is that Justin said, 'Yes.' " He raised his wineglass. "Happy Thanksgiving."_ _

__His partner and their guests raised their glasses as well. "Happy Thanksgiving."_ _

__Justin had his dad carve the turkey since Craig was an expert at carving and it was a way for him to interact with folks without feeling awkward._ _

__"He's really good," Vic commented to Justin and Brian sotto voce as Brian went around taking pictures._ _

__"I'm glad he rammed me with his car instead of coming after me with a butcher's knife."_ _

__"So am I," said Justin. "I love your balls," he whispered in his ear before biting the lobe._ _

__"Behave," Brian admonished, "or I'm gonna take you upstairs and fuck your brains out."_ _

__"We could use the downstairs bathroom," Justin suggested._ _

__"If you give me a hard-on, you are so in trouble."_ _

__"Hey!" yelled Deb. "Stop groping each other and get back to dinner."_ _

__Dutifully they sat, casting longing looks at one another over the centerpiece._ _

__Gus left the children's table and wanted to sit with Brian._ _

__"Gus, you have your own chair and your own plate," Brian explained._ _

__"I wanna sit with you, Daddy."_ _

__"There's no room."_ _

__The toddler began to pout, the prelude to a full-fledged crying session._ _

__Attempting to head one off, Brian took him out into the reception hall and sat him on the steps to talk to him._ _

__"Uh-oh," intoned Em._ _

__They were gone for a minute or so and everyone strained to hear what Brian was saying but couldn't. When they returned, Gus still seemed disappointed but he took his seat at the kiddie table and began eating his food._ _

__"What'd you tell him?" Claire asked, amazed that the episode hadn't degenerated into a shouting match the way it would have when they were kids and dealing with Jack._ _

__"I told him he could sit with me when we had dessert. I never eat all mine anyway."_ _

__"You never eat all of your food period," Joanie pointed out. "You're too skinny."_ _

__"That's what my mom says," Justin told her. "But he won't eat. He's afraid of gaining even an ounce."_ _

__"I have to fit into my Armani."_ _

__"What a queen," ragged Mel._ _

__True to his word, when dessert time rolled around, Brian let Gus sit on his lap and help him eat his cake and pie. Gus loved Joanie's chocolate chocolate chip cake. "Good?" Brian asked._ _

__"Yeah." His face was smeared with chocolate as were his fingers as he'd abandoned his fork. Brian took hold of Gus' hand and kissed the chocolate from his fingers, causing Gus to giggle uncontrollably._ _

__Watching them on their way to the kitchen to refill the pitchers of iced water, Craig said to Justin, "He's a good father."_ _

__"Which is a miracle considering the way his father treated him." At Craig's inquiring look, he explained. "His dad abused him."_ _

__"Sexually?" Craig asked, almost afraid to hear the answer even though, to his way of thinking, it would explain a lot._ _

__"Everything but. He beat him, belittled him, was always cutting him down. Nothing Brian did was ever good enough for him. And then after Brian got older and became successful, his dad would come around looking for money. Brian always gave it to him even though he knew he'd never get it back and even after all the things his dad had done to him."_ _

__"He doesn't seem like the type to forgive and forget."_ _

__Justin paused. "He's not. He's gotten burned one too many times."_ _

__Craig thought about his own behavior at Justin's graduation party, how he'd torn into Brian even after Brian had saved Justin's life. He still didn't know what had made him do that, but he didn't think he could have controlled himself even if he'd tried. The anger had been that great. The fear that they could have lost Justin._ _

__"He expects a lot out of people," Justin explained, "but he doesn't hold his breath thinking they'll do the right thing." Justin finished dumping the tray of ice into the pitcher. "Still, he's the one who usually gets hurt because he can't help but hope that they will."_ _

__Head bowed so as not to see his son's eyes, Craig said, "I wish I'd been a better father."_ _

__"There were worse," Justin said with a slight grin as his father looked up in surprise. "I won't lie to you. I kinda hated you for a while. Especially after what you said to Brian." At his graduation party. "You really hurt him. He suffered too when I got bashed."_ _

__"I know." Although he'd missed Brian's testimony during the trial, he'd learned from Jenn just how much they'd both been affected by the bashing. "And I'm sorry for what I said."_ _

__Justin paused with the pitcher of ice water in his hands. "I’m glad you came."_ _

__"Me too."_ _

__Just as it threatened to become what Brian called "an Oprah moment", Gus came running into the room, holding out his chocolate stained hands. "Daddy! I got to wash!"_ _

__Craig lifted him to the sink and held him as he washed his hands. When Gus was done, he kissed his grandfather on the cheek. "Hey, Granddaddy."_ _

__"Hey."_ _

__"I love you," he whispered and Craig, surprised by how much he felt for Brian's son, whispered back, "I love you too."_ _

__

__As usual, it took all of their persuasive powers to get Gus to go home with his mommies. Not that he didn't love the women just as much as he loved his daddies, but he lived with Mel and Lindsay so any time he got to spend with Brian and Justin was extra special. But his parents held firm, all four of them, and he resigned himself to going home. Only he was a lot less sad as Brian took him aside and promised that he could spend a whole week with them at Christmas and he and Justin would take him to see Santa Claus._ _

__Gus rubbed Brian's face and said, "Daddy look like Santa Claus."_ _

__"Why?" asked Brian._ _

__"You got a beerd," he answered and Brian ho, ho, hoed until Gus laughed himself silly._ _

__Their guests gone, the two men went about cleaning up the house, having refused any help from their friends and family. It was easier for them to do it themselves than to direct others. Besides, they wanted to be alone, no matter the circumstances._ _

__It surprised Brian sometimes that he could be content just being in the same room with Justin. Even if they said nothing to each other, it comforted him to know that Justin was nearby. Elbow-deep in suds, washing their china by hand, he was grateful that he hadn't spent the holiday alone the way he used to years ago when he hadn't believed in anything but fucking. He was grateful that Justin hadn't believed him, that the teen had persisted in pursuing him until he'd gotten his man._ _

__"Hey, maybe Mikey and Jeff will get married and we can have dinner at their place next year," Justin said, breaking the silence._ _

__"Maybe."_ _

__"You don't think they're gonna last that long, do you?"_ _

__Brian shrugged. "Look at us. If we can make it, anyone can."_ _

__But Justin disagreed. "We were meant to be together."_ _

__"Made for each other?" teased Brian. Justin had said it more than once in the past._ _

__"Exactly."_ _

__Brian kissed him, then held him close, his lover ignoring the suds soaking into his shirt. "Maybe you're right." Brushed his lips over his cheek. "How about we leave the rest of this for tomorrow?"_ _

__"You're so smart," Justin told him, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck._ _

__"Married you, didn't I?_ _

__"I had to beg you to," Justin reminded him, remembering the big blow-up they'd had about getting married._ _

__But Brian shook his head. "All you had to do was ask." Which was true. Once Justin had asked, he'd said yes, without hesitation._ _

__Upstairs, they stripped in the closet and Justin espied the costume Em had created for him for Halloween. Taking it from the rack, he ran his fingers over the emblem embossed on the chest, a capital B on its side. He recalled with shame the angry words he'd said to Brian. Even though he'd felt that he'd had cause at the time, he now regretted his harshness. Time and time again they had to ask forgiveness for some mistake they'd made; this was yet another instance. Turning towards Brian, he found himself the object of his husband's studious yet tender gaze._ _

__"I know," Brian said._ _

__"You do? How?"_ _

__Brian smiled. "We were made for each other, remember?"_ _

__Hanging the costume back on the rack, Justin moved into Brian's arms, head against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso, and hands on his shoulder blades. Gratefully, he kissed his bare skin and was overcome, with wonder, that this man, this beautiful, strong, and miraculous man, was his._ _

___Thank you_ _ _


	6. Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

For most couples, going to NYC for their anniversary meant visiting major attractions and taking in a show; hitting one or two museums; and eating at a bevy of fabulous restaurants. Some of which they did, of course; but for Brian and Justin, it also meant taking long walks down NY streets in Chelsea, Soho, Greenwich Village, and the Upper East Side with no particular destination in mind. They strolled hand-in-hand, sightseeing, window shopping, and talking, drifting with the snow. Although Brian was trying to cut back on his coffee consumption, they still managed to duck into half a dozen coffee shops to escape the flurries. Inside these cozy hideaways, they sipped hot apple cider, hot chocolate, and even chai, all in an effort to break his caffeine habit.

And they talked. They held intimate, blue conversations in the hallways of museums as other patrons gazed at the Picasso, Miro, and Matisse; laughed quietly while occupying corner tables in dimly lit coffee bars; and played in the park, pushing each other with their shoulders until the roughhousing turned romantic and they leaned up against some stone wall to kiss. All the while whispering sweet nothings in one another's ears.

Ignoring fellow sightseers, fellow diners, waiters, cashiers, drivers, and museum guards, they conversed in hushed tones, sable words penetrating layers of clothes to brush against bare bodies, warm, soft, and incredibly erotic.

In their bed, their king-sized bed in their suite, they continued their conversations, whispering urgent requests that were instantly obeyed, eliciting louder responses, cries that were absorbed by the soundproof walls, cries that teased and aroused, locking them in a cycle of pleasure.

Lying together afterwards, they said very little; now was the time for silence. Pulses slowing from allegro to adagio, their hearts spoke one to the other, without words, and lulled them to sleep. 

 

They were beautiful even in a city famed for beauty. Their passage down crowded streets never went unnoticed. People who paused for very little, not even their own lives, glanced at them, sometimes taking a second envious look. Which they ignored for the most part, being too enrapt with one another. They were young and in love. Another year had passed and they were still together, more than just together, their relationship was stronger than ever having survived yet another crisis, another test. This was their reward.

_"Do you remember…?" began most of their conversations._

_"Do you remember how nervous you were on our wedding day?"_

_"I wasn't nervous, I just didn't want to go up in flames."_

_"Do you remember how beautiful everything looked?"_

_"I remember how beautiful you were. How beautiful you still are."_

_"Do you remember when Gus tried to give you the fake rings off his pillow?"_

_"I worry about him sometimes."_

_"Your son."_

_"Our son."_

In restaurants they fed one another tidbits to the amusement of the other diners. A grown man being fed by his husband. By his handsome, young husband. The diners were amused and jealous, acutely aware of their cold self-sufficiency.

Outside, they basked in the winter sunlight, grateful when it managed to pierce the cloud cover and the canopy of concrete and glass buildings. They missed their home, their corner of the Mediterranean hidden away in Pittsburgh behind stone walls and statuesque trees. Missed the enormous Palladian and French windows that coaxed the sun inside. Still, New York managed to seduce them as it had millions of other visitors before them.

Wandering through Chelsea, Brian deciphered a wistful look of longing on Justin's face. "Be nice, huh? Having a studio here."

Justin shrugged. "I guess."

"Like you've never thought about it."

"I used to think it'd be the best. Being in New York, right in the middle of everything, feeding off the energy…"

Softly, he replied, "Yeah." Looked around them at the bohemian types going about their normal, everyday lives: the next Pollock, Haring, or Basquiat. Justin would have fit in perfectly here. "Still think about it?"

"I have a fantastic studio and I have a beautiful home that I love…and a man that I love, more than anything in the world." It still gave him the chills to say that, to feel the words down to his bones. "I have you and I have Gus… I wouldn't give that up for anything. Would you?"

"Why would I want to?"

"I seem to remember someone dreaming about an office on Madison Avenue."

It had been more than a dream, it had been a way out of Pitts, a chance to be different, to forestall the inevitable: a slow decline. But he'd been wrong. He shook his head. "If I came to NY, I'd have to prove myself all over again," he said, although there were more reasons than that.

"Could start a branch of the firm here," Justin pointed out.

"I have everything I want in Pitts." He grimaced as he said it, then chuckled. "I always thought I'd have to go someplace else to be happy."

"And are you happy?" _With me?_

"You doubt it?"

Justin shook snow from his bangs. It'd begun to fall again, lightly.

"So," began Brian, "what should we do next?"

"Go back to the hotel?"

"It's early yet."

"We haven't tried out all the stuff that came in our gift basket." As part of the Erotica Package at the Library Hotel, they'd been given a set of Karma Sutra Love Essentials consisting of edible Honey Dust, Oil of Love, and a lubricating Love Liquid. Justin had beamed when they'd checked into their room to find a bottle of champagne waiting for them and a dozen red roses… 

 

_I tip the guy while Brian goes to the terrace doors and peers down the street. You can see the New York Public Library from our room. The façade is lit although you can't really make out the lions in front very clearly. Maybe because it's night and a little hazy out._

_Chocolates on the pillow, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket, and a dozen red roses… it's very romantic. There's a bowl of strawberries and cream. Cool Whip, actually, low-fat, explained the waiter when he'd brought it up. We've had strawberries and cream before, once in the loft. Brian put one in my… I wonder if he'll remember. I certainly won't ever forget the feel of his tongue and lips as he ate it out of me. Just thinking about it makes my cock tingle. Not to mention my hole. I wish Brian would come away from the window. I want to start celebrating. Guess I'll have to go and get him. Just as I start towards him, he turns, smiles softly, lips just curving a bit, the corners rising just a little. I love his smile, love his lips. He has the most beautiful mouth. Better than strawberries. I can't help myself, I pull his head down and kiss him as if we hadn't kissed for days._

_"Hungry?" he asks when we part._

_"Starving," I tell him and I slide my hands up under his sweater. He draws slightly away because my hands are cool but they'll warm soon enough. I run my hands over his stomach, up his sides, across his pecs. Even though his muscles aren't as sharply defined or bulky as most of the gym bunnies that populate Liberty Avenue, he's solid. There isn't an ounce of fat on him. Solid, hard body beneath skin that feels like suede._

_We kiss as I continue to feel him up, palms cupping his shoulder blades, fingers tracing his spine. I part my lips and he slips his tongue inside my mouth and instantly I've got a hard-on. Sliding my hand down the front of his jeans, I encounter his cock. Hard like mine. As we kiss, I stroke it, knead it, inch my hand down further to play with his balls which are moist and warm and fit perfectly in my palm. With my free hand, I undo the buttons on his fly and he works the jeans down around his slender thighs. I release his dick to slip my hand between them, feeling the cords of muscles that run the length of his legs._

_His legs, his beautifully shaped legs. There have been times when I've gotten so turned on just by watching him walk across a room, following the space between his thighs. He has a pair of bell bottoms, tight at the top, hugging his ass and thighs and then blossoming around his ankles. Just the sound of them brushing against the floor…_

_I push him back onto the bed and kneel to remove his shoes and socks, his jeans. He's naked except for his sweater, stark against his skin, winter pale. Parting his legs, I take one in my hand and kiss my way from toes to crotch. Do the same to the other until his legs are covered in kisses. His cock rears up. I have to come out of my clothes._

_He watches me as I strip, eyes lingering on my nipples, my cock, my ass. He loves my nipples, loves to bit them, lick them, kiss them until the tips harden. Loves to nibble on my cock. Ass too. I turn away to drop my jeans. I can almost feel his breath on my hole, feel his teeth as they tug on the edges, feel the tip of his tongue as it slides inside me. Which makes me even harder. My cock stretches towards my belly, the tip already wet, leaving silver smears on my skin where it touches._

_His dick is dripping as well. I lie next to him and place my palm upon its neck. Slowly move up and down the shaft. Rotate my hand in place. Stroke his sac until it turns a rosy red. Precum has pooled beneath his cockhead. I lean over him, lift his cock on the backs of my fingers, easing it out of the way, and lap up the liquid that has accumulated on his belly. Lap it from his navel. More precum seeps from the swollen head, running over my knuckles. I lick them clean then engulf his cock. Lying head to crotch, I pleasure my man and myself, purring around his dick as he moans and writhes about on the bed._

_I can't quite explain what it is about this act that drives me crazy but it does. He calls me his Pooh bear, his sticky sweet honey bear and it's true, I love sucking him off, face wet with precum, lips, tongue coated with the stuff. It makes me dizzy, sometimes I feel lightheaded when I'm going down on him. I don't know if it's the feel of him inside my mouth, the sound of him moaning, the taste of his flesh... the power I feel knowing that I'm doing this to him, I'm the reason his back is arched, I'm the reason he's panting, groaning… me._

_Suddenly he pulls me off his cock. I turn and crawl into his arms, our erections pressed together, cock kissing. "What?"_

_"Maybe we should see what The Kama Sutra says about it."_

_"You complaining?"_

_He picks up the book from the bedside table, flips through it and hands it to me after finding the right section. "Read."_

_I lie on my back and begin to read as he removes his sweater and positions himself between my legs. Oh fuck… My voice trembles._

_"Holding your lover's penis with your hand, place it between your lips and move your mouth about in tiny circles; this is called the `nominal congress'." I pause as he follows directions, as his mouth encircles the head of my cock, the tip warmed by his breath. A throb travels up the shaft, expanding my hole. And this is just the first step. Moistening my lips, I continue._

_"Covering the end of the penis with your fingers collected together like the bud of a plant or flower, press the sides of it with your lips, first on one side and then the other, using your teeth also; this is called `biting the sides'." I have to catch my lip as he nibbles the shaft, using the pad of his finger to massage the head. Each bite is like a tiny shock of electricity. The sensation radiates from my groin to encompass my entire body._

_He finishes snacking and looks up at me, red mouth shiny with saliva. "Go on."_

_Voice a lot shakier, I continue. "When your lover desires you to proceed, press the end of the penis with your lips closed together, and kiss it and pull at its soft skin as if you were drawing it out; this is called the `outside pressing'." I close my eyes in anticipation and he doesn't disappoint. My thighs tense and I raise my knees a little, pressing my feet into the bed as he softly kisses my cock and teases it with his lips, no teeth this time, but no less affective because of it._

_"Keep going," he says, his mouth against my thigh._

_"When your lover asks you to go on, put his penis further into your mouth, and press it with your lips and then take it out; this is called the `inside pressing'."_

_"Do you want me to go on?"_

_"Fuck yeah," I say and I almost laugh at the desperation in my voice. I can feel him smile before he closes his lips around me and then releases me once more._

_"Holding the penis in your hand, kiss it as if you were kissing the lower lip; this is called `kissing'." God, he knows all about kissing. Whether he's kissing my mouth, my cock, my ass, he never fails to set me on fire. This time is no different from all the rest. My toes curl and I raise my hips from the bed as he kisses the head of my cock, tongue probing the hole, French kissing my dick. I cry out and he curls his tongue about the head, kisses me one last time, and waits._

_It takes me a moment to find my voice. My throat has tightened up as has my asshole. When it relaxes, so does my throat. Both are hungry for his cock. "After kissing it, touch it with your tongue everywhere, and pass the tongue over the end of it; this is called `rubbing'." And he does, alternating long, leisurely licks with quick flicks. Through slitted eyes I watch him. His tongue covers my entire cock until it glistens. Saliva runs over the edge of the head and down the shaft, having mixed with precum. I'm so hard, I'm surprised that I haven't come yet. I'm so close, so close… Glancing at the next section, I moan. He reaches up and laces his fingers with mine, providing support._

_"Put half of it into your mouth," pause, "and forcibly kiss and suck it." I lick my lips. "This is called `sucking a mango fruit'." The last few words come out as a whisper. My entire body tenses._

_He strokes my thigh. "Relax." Kisses the smooth flesh on the inside. "Close your eyes." I do so and he forms a V with his fingers and slides it around the base of my cock. Lowers his mouth around me and takes in half of my dick as per instructions. I release the breath I've been holding and he begins to suck me. Turning my head to the side, I try to control my breathing while he feeds on me. The slit in my cock opens and precum bursts from it as if it were mango juice, released when the skin is split. Thick, clinging to his lips. Even though my eyes are closed, I can hear the noises he makes as he devours me. He lets go of me with a sucking sound. I pop out of his mouth and remain upright, seeping. Hands shaking, I lift the book to my face and read the final passage._

_"Lastly, put his entire penis into your mouth, and press it to the very end, as if you were going to swallow it up; this is called `swallowing up'." Dropping the book to the bed, I grip his hair and hold on as he takes me all the way inside, cockhead brushing against the back of his throat. I feel his muscles press against the sides of my cock and I cry out. It feels so good, so good, all I want is to come, I want to fill his mouth with cum, to spray his throat with my spunk. His lips tighten around me and pull. "Fuck… fuck. Oh, God… Oh…" He tugs on me, twisting his head and I shout and explode. Eyes squeezed tight, I hold his head to me and I pump every last drop I have into his throat, grunting with each spasm._

_When I can breathe again, I open my eyes and look down at him. He slides his lips off my cock and looks up at me and smiles. A drop of cum clings to his bottom lip and his tongue slips out and wipes it away. Fuck…_

Justin was twenty-one and in two months he'd be thirty-three years old. Thirty- fucking three-years-old. _Shit_. Some days he felt every year of his age. Other times, he was like a teenager. Horny as hell and wanting Justin so badly he was tempted to leave work in the middle of the day and drive to IFA and kidnap him for a little early afternoon nookie. He'd done it once just a month after they were married. Found Justin in his studio working, and shut the door and fucked him right there, the young artist bent over his drafting board, neither one of them caring if they were overheard. Afterwards, he'd kissed his husband and straightened his clothes and returned to work, satisfied, sated for the rest of the day. Cynthia had given him a knowing look when he got back to the office but he'd ignored her. No need to give her any more ammunition. But he'd hummed and whistled to himself all afternoon and was certain he'd heard her giggling at him more than once. He hadn't cared. It had been worth every smirk. 

They were having dinner in a small restaurant not far from the hotel, dark, intimate, tables far enough apart for privacy. They had a booth in the back, sat next to one another on one side and kissed when they thought no one was looking.

 _Christ, I am so fuckin' hard,_ Brian thought and he was. Dick pressed against the inside of his trousers. Although Justin had wanted to return to the hotel earlier and fuck after their trip to Chelsea, they hadn't, deciding instead to go to an early dinner and wander around midtown afterwards. Maybe they should have spent the evening inside. Involuntarily, he gave a low moan.

"What?"

His lip curled. "I've got a hard-on like you wouldn't believe." Thinking Justin would be content with the update, he was shocked to feel a hand on his crotch. A hand which cupped him and squeezed, fingers that stroked unnecessarily.

"You're right."

"You're not helping," he told Justin but it felt too good, he couldn't push his hand away.

Justin smiled. Whispered, "Open your legs."

"Baby…"

"Do it."

Brian spread his legs, hoping the table cloth would hide what Justin was doing. Bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud as his lover unzipped him and reached inside his fly. Pushed down the waistband of his underwear and took hold of his cock. Turning his face towards the wall, Brian took a gulp of air as Justin pulled him out through his fly and wrapped his fingers around him. Tugged slightly, his hand barely moving.

The waiter arrived with their entrees but Justin didn't remove his hand from Brian's dick or stop what he was doing. Thanking the waiter, he continued to jack Brian off, eating with his right hand and smiling as if he were delighted with the meal. Brian tried to follow suit only to inhale sharply as Justin's thumb pressed into his cock hole. He was glad he hadn't taken a bite, he could imagine the scene: him choking on his dinner while Justin pumped his dick. Cautiously, he began to eat.

Later, Justin leaned over and asked quietly, "How is it?"

"Fucking fantastic," he said through clenched teeth. Justin had been working him for the past few minutes and he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. The usual turn-on of fucking in public had been amplified a thousand-fold by the fact that they were in the middle of a restaurant where people were eating, unaware of what was taking place in their midst. A couple of minutes later, he regretted letting Justin begin because he was close to coming and he didn't know if he could keep quiet any longer. "Justin…" he whispered. "Stop."

"I want to feel you come."

"Justin…" God, he hoped that the walls of the booth were high enough. Even though they were speaking softly to avoid attracting attention, his face was red, he could feel the heat on his skin, having spread from his chest, up his neck, and across his face.

Justin yanked on Brian's dick. "Come on," he said. "Do it."

"I…"

"I want to eat your cum. Lick it all up."

"Stop…"

He ran his thumb over the tip as he squeezed the head. "I know you want to. I can feel it. Come on, Pookie. Blow." He gave him another tug and Brian jumped in his hand, his belly muscles jerked and a spurt of cum struck the underside of the table. "That's it, give it to me. All of it." He drained Brian then held him while the man recovered. Brian hadn't made a sound, swallowing his normal grunts and groans in an effort not to draw attention to their illicit activities. When he began to soften, Justin released him, raised his fingers to his lips, and lapped away a few drops of cum.

Trembling, Brian placed his cock back inside his pants and zipped up.

The waiter came by. "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Just perfect," he replied breathlessly. "Everything's perfect."

"Delicious." Justin licked his finger and smiled, and continued to eat his Chicken Alfredo. 

 

After dinner, they walked over to Rockefeller Center and stood among the flags of nations while people skated in the rink below, their conversation punctuated by laughter and screams, shrieks and groans as some of the less experienced skaters took tumbles.

"Ever go ice skating?" Justin asked.

"Once. As Mikey says, if God had wanted me on ice, he would have made me a vodka martini."

Justin laughed. "Michael said that?" Brian nodded. "Sounds a lot like you." Thought for a moment. "Guess that means you're not really interested in doing it, huh?"

"What? Down there?" He looked around. Actually there weren't a lot of people around and the skaters did look like they were having fun. Besides, they wouldn't be the worse ones on the ice. That'd be the guy in the blue and orange jacket and his girlfriend. Totally pathetic. Breeders. Tugging on Justin's coat, Brian said, "Come on."

With rental skates on their feet, they toddled out onto the ice. Brian figured he looked the way Gus had when he was learning to walk, arms akimbo, unsteady, unsure of whether he was going to take another step safely or fall on his ass. Much like life in general. But, as with Gus, whenever he faltered, Justin was there to help him up, to steady him, support him. Strong. Beautiful. Smiling in the lamp light. He returned the smile and held out his hand. Justin took it and together they slowly made their way around the edge of the rink under the watchful eye of Prometheus. 

 

Having turned in their skates, they walked unsteadily down the street and up to St. Patrick's Cathedral. The church was closed but they figured it'd be nice to sit at the top of the landing and watch the world go by. It was only as they mounted the first of the steps that Justin remembered the video Brian and Cam had made when they'd come to NY, the one Brian had left on his father's grave. Turning to him, worried, Justin asked, "Brian…?"

The man shook his head and paused, then sat down with his back to the building.

Justin perched next to him. "I didn't think."

Eyes shiny in the night, he sniffled. "Me neither."

Taking him in his arms, Justin held him. "I'm sorry."

He supposed it'd been building all day, that his unconscious mind had been grappling with Cam unbeknownst to him. God, he did not want to think about him, did not want to deal with him today, not when they'd been so happy. Fuck it, they were here for their anniversary and he was sitting on the fuckin' steps of St. Patrick's sniffling over a trip he'd taken over a decade earlier. Cam was gone, and they had fallen apart years before that. Why the fuck— Taking a deep breath, he held Justin to him and hoped it'd pass, this feeling of déjà vu. And suddenly he felt a pain so sharp— Drawing away from Justin, he stood and took a few steps, stopped, unsure of where he was going, what he was going to do. Everything was so confusing, these feelings…

"Brian…?" Justin came up behind and touched his arm. Brian looked around and closed his eyes. "It's all right. I know. I know," he whispered because he knew that it wasn't just Cam. If it had just been Cam, Brian would have been able to brush it off. But that shit with Kenneth had shaken him and he hadn't completely gotten over it. In three months, they'd be marking a different kind of anniversary, one he didn't relish thinking about. Neither did Brian and, he supposed, Kenneth wasn't eager to recall the events of a year ago either. It was funny, the way people said winter was cruel when, in his experience, the worst things happened in the spring of the year. The prom, Xavier, Brian's suicide attempt, Kenneth… It almost made him laugh, the way it seemed as if every spring they were dealing with some crisis. He wondered, sadistically, what it'd be this year, then mentally crossed himself to ward off any evil.

He supposed he should have been angry, that Brian was still that affected by Cam and Kenneth but he wasn't, because what Brian felt for them was but one one-thousandth of what he felt for him. Furthermore, the fact that Brian could feel those things meant that he was growing as a person, evolving, allowing himself to be vulnerable, to be open and, no matter what, that was important to Justin. He'd rather have to comfort Brian over Cam and Kenneth than to have the man shut him out, pretend that he felt nothing. Justin never wanted them to return to the old days when he'd have to guess at everything, and wonder what Brian felt, what he thought because Brian hadn't trusted him enough to confide in him. If hearing hurtful things was the price of gaining Brian's confidence, then he'd gladly pay it.

Softly, Brian said, "I'm glad we didn't have our wedding here," and Justin laughed abruptly. Kissed him. The crisis had passed. 

 

He woke to knocking at the door. Groaned and got up, tied on his robe, and let in Room Service. In addition to breakfast, there was a bouquet of flowers in a vase: irises, Stargazer lilies, snapdragons, mini gerbera daisies, and Queen's Anne Lace. Pretty.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sir," the waiter wished him without much enthusiasm.

"Thanks." Brian stepped aside to let him in. The guy set up breakfast quickly, passed Brian the bill, and exited speedily. Brian wondered if he was just conscientious or if the sight of Justin's obviously male and partially uncovered form bothered him. In any case, Brian didn't really care. He tapped Justin on the shoulder. "Breakfast." Went into the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. Justin staggered in a few moments later and they performed their morning rituals in silence.

Kissing before sitting down to breakfast, Justin whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day," and cupped Brian's crotch.

"We should eat before it gets cold."

"Uh-huh," the young man said and pushed Brian back into an armless chair. Dropped off his own robe and then knelt and untied the belt around Brian's. Threw back the two halves of the robe, exposing his tight abs and rounded pecs as well as his thighs and sleepy cock. But not for long as Justin began to go down on him. Pretty soon Brian's dick had awakened completely and was actively seeking the warmth of his lover's mouth. At which point Justin pulled away and stood up. Found the gift basket the hotel had left for them. Untied the bag of Honey Dust and used the feather duster that came with the set to dust Brian from head to toe, paying particular attention to his nipples and cock. Having dusted him, he set about cleansing him of the golden particles, licking a trail from his throat to his groin. By the time he reached his cock, there was a line of clear liquid running down the shaft. Lapping it away, he hummed. Honey-flavored precum. He'd definitely have to take the Honey Dust home with him, maybe order a couple extra bags.

Having gotten Brian nice and hard, he reached inside the basket and took out the Love Liquid included with the gift pack, and squeezed just enough over the head to provide the barest amount of lubrication. They both liked it a little rough. Then, crouching over his lover's lap, he waited. Brian positioned his dick, head probing between his cheeks until it found the object of its search. Gripping Brian's shoulders, Justin lowered himself onto him, the wet head spearing his hole. Yes… "Ugh…" he moaned and pushed down again, taking another couple of inches inside. Buried his face in Brian's neck and kissed his throat as he came to rest on his lap, dizzy from the sensation of Brian's dick head bumping into his swollen prostate. Sometimes he wished he could open up his body and have Brian suck his prostate the way straight guys sucked women's clits. But having him hit it each time he thrust inside him wasn't bad either.

Brian was content to have Justin slide up and down his cock, establishing the rhythm, setting the pace of their fucking. Legs spread, he held onto Justin's ass and let him rise and fall as he wanted.

After a few minutes of going slow, Justin increased the tempo. Still leisurely enough to feel every inch as it entered and exited him, it was just fast enough to increase the friction a little, making Brian even harder. Sweat had begun to form on their skin and they were warming up nicely.

He loved feeling Brian's bush beneath his cheeks, loved rubbing his own against Brian's belly. His cock left a silvery trail. Taking Brian all the way in, he held onto his neck and leaned back, worked his hips back and forth sharply, then sat back up and rotated them lazily, keeping Brian deep inside him. For the next few minutes, he continued to tighten his muscles around Brian, using them the way he would his fist if he were jacking him off. Then, responding to some internal clock, he began to bounce on him again.

"Yeah, Baby…" Brian urged.

Muscles in his thighs tiring, Justin nevertheless continued to pump Brian's cock. Laid his lips next to Brian's ear and whispered, "Fuck me, Daddy." A delicious shiver went through the both of them. Justin had never called him that before during sex and it turned them both on so incredibly that, "Shit," was all Brian could say in response.

But Justin breathed in his ear, "Fuck your little boy." Continued to ride his cock. "Mmm, Daddy… fuck me."

Brian wrapped his arms around him and stood with Justin still impaled on his erection. Carried him to the bed and laid Justin on his back, thrusting in and out of him wildly.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…" Justin chanted, legs crossed behind Brian's back.

"…so tight," said Brian. "Love that tight, little hole."

"Fuck me, Daddy," he whispered and clenched his legs tighter around Brian. "Fuck me… Harder." He raised his hips to meet Brian's thrusts and tightened his asshole. God, he felt so dirty, so hot, so fucking hot. "Fuck your little boy."

Brian kissed his chin while he jabbed his hole. "First time," he gasped, caught up in the game now. "First time getting fucked."

Justin moaned. He hadn't believed it could get any hotter. Wondered where Brian would go from here.

"I bet you used to put your fingers up there. Didn't you, little boy?"

"Yes." The rawness of the query shocked the truth out of him.

"Twisting around in that tight, little ass."

"Yes!" he hissed. He could feel his insides do a flip-flop.

"Wish I could have been there. Put my fingers up your hole. Lick your hole. Suck your hole. Eat your hole."

Justin shuddered and gripped the covers. Each time Brian had said the word hole, the sound had pulsed through his cock. A surge of precum wet his belly. He wriggled his hips, his cock sliding between them, balls rubbing up against Brian.

"I can see you. Lying there with your ass up in the air. Dreaming about cock."

"Yeah…"

"Wanting some cock. Wanting someone to come and take you, come and fuck you."

"Mmm…" God, it'd been just like that. Lying in bed, fingering his asshole, wanting to feel a dick inside him, wanting it to fill the emptiness inside him. Until one day the finger hadn't been enough and he went down to Liberty Avenue… and met Brian.

"Needing it so bad you could scream." Justin whimpered. "I'm here. And I'm gonna make you feel so good..."

"...feels so good." He felt dizzy. He couldn't remember being this aroused before. His entire body tingled.

"Fill that tight, little ass with my cock."

"I love it."

"Split that pretty, pink ass wide open."

Eyelids fluttering he moaned, "Oh…"

Licked the side of Justin's jaw. "I wanna hear you beg, little boy."

And he begged, fighting to breathe, fighting to remain coherent enough to speak. "Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me. Daddy… Mmm… Daddy… Oh, Daddy. Daddy!" And he arched his back and blew his load, pumping hard against Brian's body. "Oh! Oh!" When he finally slumped to the bed, cum clung to Brian's chest and belly.

Brian dug in and pounded him while he came. His hips continued to thrust until his balls had expelled the very last creamy drop. Collapsing upon his lover, he inhaled deeply, Justin's scent in his nose, his head. Nobody had a little boy like his. Nobody. 

 

"Now, hold still," Justin told him as he took up a position at the foot of the bed.

Brian felt a little silly lying naked on the comforter, body sprinkled with Honey Dust and flowers, a gerbera daisy head in his navel. "I thought you had given up on the series," he said, referring to the portraits Kenneth had commissioned from Justin. He didn't know how he felt about Justin continuing them. In a way, it shouldn't have mattered, after all, things were settled between him and Kenneth. More than settled, they were finished. What Justin decided about the portraits was his own business.

"It was a good idea," he said, not wanting to commit to anything more at this point.

But Brian wanted to know what his intentions were. "To sell to Kenneth?"

He shrugged. "Would that bother you?"

For a moment he was tempted to say that it wouldn't but then he decided to tell the truth. "Yeah. It would."

"Then I won't sell them to him. But," he said, "I still want to finish them. Okay?"

Brian closed his eyes. "Draw away."

When Justin had finished sketching him, he brushed away the flowers and removed the daisy from his navel and kissed his belly. "Go out?" They'd been in all morning.

Groaning a little, Brian agreed. "You're a sadist."

"Come on, let's take a shower," Justin said and he picked up a handful of flower petals and dropped them down his back as he walked into the bathroom.

Lips parted, Brian followed the path of the flowers as they tumbled down Justin's spine and over his buttocks. Rising, he very nearly ran. Time for his reward. 

 

Having wandered around the Metropolitan Museum of Art for an hour or two, and having seen probably only one-tenth of the items on display, they returned to the hotel, changed, and took a cab to Tribeca. They were having dinner at Chanterelle, something both foodies had been looking forward to since they'd begun planning for their trip to New York. For their anniversary, they were going to Le Cirque 2000 but they were just as anxious to visit Chanterelle tonight.

Justin immediately fell in love with the open dining room with its white tablecloths and flower arrangements; Brian liked the lack of fussiness, something he always complained vocally about in their own dining room although, secretly, he thought their dining room was elegant, tasteful, and beautiful. As did everyone else. Actually, their entire house was pretty impressive with almost all of the rooms finally finished or close to being finished. All except one. Justin's studio.

Beginning with steamed zucchini blossoms with lobster and shrimp, they progressed to Cumin Crusted Tuna with Lemon and Leeks and Grilled Salmon and Garlic Confit, then finished off with a quartet of chocolate desserts, some of which Brian actually ate since they planned on walking around the neighborhood for a while after dinner.

They strolled through Washington Market Park, no particular destination in mind, eventually sitting on a bench and talking, as they seemed to do each day of their trip.

Leaning into Brian, Justin asked, "You don't mind about the portraits, do you?"

"I said I didn't."

"No you said, 'Draw away.' "

"Same difference."

"So you do mind."

Brian looked up at the night sky. "It's hard."

"I know."

"Fuck." He shook his head. "I feel like I'm walking around—like I don't have…" Shook his head again. "Shit, I don't know what the fuck I'm trying to say."

"I'll stop then."

"No." He fixed his gaze on Justin's face. "You won't. I won't let you."

"Bria—"

"I won't let this stop us. Not ever. We do what we have to do. You're an artist, that's what you were meant to do."

"I can draw something else."

"But you wanted to draw me. And I want you to."

At that Justin laughed. "You hate sitting for portraits."

"As long as you make it worth my while," he grinned.

Not wanting to bring it up but knowing Brian was thinking about it too, he said, "It'll be a year in a few months."

"Yeah."

"We've come a long way."

"Yep."

Unsatisfied with his monosyllabic answers, Justin confronted him. "You're not telling me something. Is it Cam? Is that it? Did you and he come here when you drove up?"

"No. Mostly hit the Village."

"Then what?"

"I…" Deep breath. "You and Xavier, you're still friends. After all the shit we went through, you two are still close. I can't even imagine talking to Kenneth, being in the same room with him."

"It was different."

"It always is." He stood. "I just—" Kicked at the grass. "Fuck it."

"No." Justin came up beside him. "Tell me."

"Cam… is gone and Kenneth and I are through. Over and done with." It frustrated him, trying to explain how he felt and not knowing exactly what he meant himself. Except that it felt like something was missing, had been missing all along and he'd only recently discovered the loss. Since Kenneth. He'd tried to explain to Lindz, before the wedding, trying to figure out why he had been so upset by the thought of Kenneth not being there. "I wanted there to be something left." He looked away. "And there's nothing left."

Taking his hands in his, Justin told him, "There is. There's us. You and me. And that's everything, isn't it?" When Brian didn't answer right away, he asked again, "Isn't it?" pleading with his voice for Brian to tell him that it was because if it wasn't, God…

Nodding, Brian leaned his forehead against Justin's. 

 

A kiss as gentle as a flower blooming woke him. He opened his eyes to blue sky and golden sunlight. A liquid warmth spread throughout his body as Justin wrapped arms and legs about him.

"One year," Justin said, beaming down at him with a smile that caused his eyes to sparkle.

"Happy Anniversary, Baby."

Another kiss, then Justin got up and went searching through his drawer. Brought back a silver box with dark blue paper roses clustered on top. Their wedding colors. "Happy Anniversary."

Brian accepted it, fingers brushing the petals of the fragile paper roses. "I thought we said no gifts."

"You paid for the trip. The least I could do was to get you a present." He snuggled close. "Open it."

Curious, Brian removed the roses and the silver wrapping paper. Inside was a slim book. "Ecstasies by James Broughton."

"It's poetry."

More than that as Brian discovered. They were gay love poems. Justin took the volume from him, opened to a page, and read a few verses. _"Let me drink deeply of thy sacred fountain/ its bitter-sweet honey-hot milk of love./ Let me lie drunken at thy throbbing spring./ This is the mouth and the taste of God."_

"Wow," said Brian. "That was pretty hot."

"There's more."

Brian removed the book from Justin's hands and put it aside. "Later." Right now there were kisses to be had.

Resting after a lifetime of kissing compressed into a few minutes, they lay holding one another for a while before Justin eased away and traced the line of Brian's hip with his finger, an explorer walking a desert ridge. "I think you've picked up a few pounds."

"What? On my ass?"

"Mmm, maybe. Turn over. I need a better view."

Raising a brow, Brian complied. Waited a few moments. "Well?"

Justin leaned over and kissed the tops of his buttocks. "Definitely."

"Definitely bigger?"

"I definitely want some," and he nipped Brian's tush before opening the bottle labeled Oil of Love. The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air. Kneeling between Brian's parted thighs, Justin poured the oil down the middle of his back, the viscous liquid running down his spine, heating the skin along its path. Brian twisted slightly as Justin parted his cheeks, allowing the oil to wet and heat his hole.

Then, as Justin pressed his finger against the folds and the warmth increased, Brian arched his back. "Christ," he hissed and the finger slid inside, taking the heat with it.

And so it began. A morning of lovemaking to celebrate their anniversary, to celebrate having survived another year together. It'd been a rough year, filled with its share of heartache and troubles but it'd also been a good year; they'd emerged stronger than ever, more committed to one another and having greater faith in each other. Still, it'd taken its toll and sometimes Justin wondered if they would ever recapture the feeling of contentment that had enveloped them the first few months after their wedding, when nothing seemed impossible, when they'd been constricted only by their imagination and time. Being happy had seemed effortless.

Yet, they were happy now too. Even if they had to work at it, struggle with despair and the desire to give in, even if they were sometimes afraid, uncertain as to which path to take, they remained together, remained steadfastly committed to their marriage. Not once had it ever occurred to either of them to give up on one another even if, at times, each felt as if they'd given up on themselves. They had persevered. More than that, they had triumphed over adversity. They still had hope, hope that the next year would be better, that they would have decades in which to continue building.

Curled together, they made plans for Brian's thirty-third birthday, Gus' fourth birthday, and Justin's final year at IFA.

"I think," Brian suggested, "we should go away next summer after you graduate. Celebrate our anniversary, our birthdays, and your graduation all at once."

"We could take Gus with us. He'll be almost five. Old enough to have his own room so we could play."

"Mmm..." Playing. What a good idea, thought Brian but Justin was ready to make plans now.

"Where should we go?"

That was obvious. "Second part of our Grand European Tour." It'd been postponed yet again in favor of staying home this year as well and stealing away for a series of weekend trips instead.

"Might be too much for Gus."

The crowds, the noise, the endless hallways filled with art; walking from one end of the city to the other… Sometimes it had almost been too much for him as well, thought Brian.

They'd had a fabulous time in the Bahamas, so… "I was thinking maybe we could go to Hawaii, some place like that… rent a beach house on Maui or something."

"No museums?" Brian asked incredulously.

"They have museums in Hawaii. And historical buildings and—"

"Beaches," said Brian, his eyes already half-closed just thinking about it: the warm sand, bright sun, cool waters… "Sounds like a plan."

"How long?"

"For however long we can steal Gus from the Munchers."

Last year they'd split up their time with him, keeping him a week in the beginning of the summer and then a week at the end. This year they were taking two weeks all at once. Maybe by next year they could negotiate three weeks with the toddler. Justin moved closer to Brian and slipped his arms around his chest, hands resting on his back. Kissed him above his heart. Next year this time he'd be almost through with IFA, looking forward to graduating and starting his career. Despite the fiasco with the Harris commission, he felt confident that he'd have others. In the meantime, he was going to look into internships for the summer and/or fall. Which made him think about next year. He sat up again. "What if I have a job next summer? I don't think they're gonna want me to take off three weeks to go to Hawaii."

"Then you'll just have to wait to find a job after we get back." He paused, knowing it was a sore spot with Justin. "It's not like you have to work."

"Yeah, I do." Reaching for Brian's cigarettes, he lit one and laid back against him, puffing contentedly. They'd both cut back drastically but every now and again he liked to have a smoke. "Remember the mortgage?"

"It's getting paid now."

"I don't intend to be a trophy wife."

"You're an artist."

"I can be a commercial artist. You have artists working for you in your art department." Immediately he felt as if he'd made a mistake.

"You could come work for the firm."

Big mistake. "No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a partner in the firm."

"So?" Brian took a hit off of Justin's cigarette.

"So I'd be working for you."

"Working with me."

"Working for you. You're a partner, I'd be a peon. Which means I'd be working for you."

"So?"

"So, I think it'd be better if I worked someplace else."

"Or didn't work at all. You should concentrate on your art," Brian said before Justin could raise any objections again, "not churning out toilet paper ads."

"Andy Warhol turned shoe ads into art."

Sighing, Brian gave in. "Researched any companies?"

"Not yet."

"Send out your letters now, maybe get something for the summer. Companies love summer interns cause a lot of staff take vacations and the free labor comes in handy. Plus, if you intern in the summer, then there's a better chance that they'll keep you come fall when the busy season rolls around and they're looking for people who know their ass from a hole in the ground." He stole another puff, then handed the cigarette back. "Just… don't forget: the art comes first. Don't give up your dreams."

Something about the way he said it, maybe the pause, the tone, told Justin that more than just his dreams were involved. That maybe Brian had given up on a dream of his own. Not certain if he should pry yet unable to keep silent, Justin asked, "Did you?" Felt Brian stir. "Give up on a dream?"

"No."

But the answer was too abrupt, too quick to be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. "I thought we could share anything."

Easing Justin from him, Brian sat up in bed wishing he could have another smoke. Finally, he answered, "I used to think that maybe Cam and I would open up an agency together. Lindz would run the art department." He smiled softly. "But Lindz decided to teach and Cam… went away."

Which was why Brian had pushed so hard for him to work at the agency. Dreams died hard. Justin touched his face, stroked his cheek with his thumb. "If—"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You were right. You'd be working for me and it's not like it's a two person agency. The other interns would know, the other employees, the partners… they'd freak if you came to work for us."

"I bet we'd be great together."

Brian grinned. "We are great together."

And Justin breathed easier. He'd done the right thing by saying no and it wouldn't come back to bite him on the ass. He gave Brian a gentle kiss. "How about we stop talking and do what we do best?"

"Scrabble?"

"Fuck you."

"Thought you'd never suggest it."

Hours later, they stumbled from their room to walk down the street to Grand Central Station. Planning to sample Aureole's fare tomorrow for lunch, they thought they'd check out another of Charlie Palmer's restaurants in New York, Metrazur, which overlooked the bustling main concourse.

"Did you ever see The Fisher King?" Justin asked Brian, knowing how much he liked Brazil.

"Mmm. Not bad," he replied, which in Brianese meant it was actually quite good.

Of course, Justin was referring to the scene in the film when everyone dances in Grand Central Station. It'd only been a dream, Robin William's character daydreaming during rush hour, but it was a fabulous scene, surreal yet somehow absolutely true. Looking down at the people hurrying to catch their trains, Justin could imagine them suddenly finding partners and waltzing, destinations forgotten, interjecting a bit of magic into their mundane world.

While not exactly intimate, the prix-fixe lunch was delicious and having taken the last bite of the bittersweet chocolate sorbet they shared, the two sauntered around the station, browsing the shops. Always on the lookout for gifts for Gus, they stopped in The Children's General Store where they bought him a flower growing kit. He had been such a good helper with Justin's herb garden the year before that they decided to give him a little patch all to himself this year where he could putter.

"You were a pretty good helper yourself," Justin told Brian, blushing when he remembered them fucking outside the day they'd planted the herb garden. God, he'd yowled like a cat in heat and when Mel and Lindz had come over later to bring Brian's birthday present, they'd commented on the places where he'd torn up the grass with his hands, flailing about while Brian pounded him into the ground…

Giving him a peck on the cheek, Brian asked about their plans for the afternoon. He could practically smell Justin's desire: rich, earthy. "We've got five hours until our dinner reservations."

With a shrug, Justin replied, "Maybe we can just walk around Times Square or…" and he got a mischievous look in his eye. Thinking about yowling.

"Or what?"

"We can go back to the room."

"And do what?"

"We'll find something."

Brian grinned. "I've always wanted to see Rear Window." The hotel maintained a video library of the AFI's top 100 films, something they hadn't taken advantage of as yet on their trip. And they wouldn't, if Justin had anything to say about it.

As he strode on ahead, certain that his spouse was watching his every move, Justin replied, "Oh, you'll be getting a view from the rear, all right," and he twitched his hips ever so slightly.

Laughing, Brian jogged to catch up with him. 

 

Playing most of the afternoon, they napped for an hour afterwards and woke to get ready for dinner. They had reservations at Le Cirque 2000, something Justin had been dreaming about for years. Why they'd never come up before (outside of his aborted attempt to run away) he didn't know. Maybe it was because Brian and Cam had done New York and he'd never been sure how Brian would feel about them repeating that trip despite Brian telling him that he wouldn't mind. Most of the time you had to look beyond what Brian said to discover how he really felt about something. Not that he lied deliberately, it's just that sometimes words failed him and other times he used words as a shield to keep people away, to protect himself. But he was working on it, with Drew, working on voicing his feelings, talking things out. And he did try. Now that he'd found someone who'd listen; someone who'd be on his side no matter what yet wasn't afraid to tell him he was wrong if that was the case; someone who loved him unconditionally but who had expectations of him as well. I love you, no matter what, but I need you to explain to me why you do the things you do, that's what Justin tried to get across to Brian, and he thought he'd been successful. They still had problems like any other couple but they'd learned how to talk things through and it had made all the difference.

As he fastened his watch, he heard a noise and turned; Brian came out of the bathroom and Justin paused, unable to remember what he'd been doing. Brian was, in a word, stunning. Dark grey wool suit paired with a silver tie faintly patterned in paisley. His wedding ring and sterling silver bracelet completed the ensemble. Justin smiled and slipped his arms around him. Of course, he always thought Brian looked beautiful even when he didn't exactly look his best. In fact, he liked how boyish Brian seemed in his old jeans and a plain white tee-shirt, his hair mussed and a five o'clock shadow darkening his jaw. It was at those times that Justin could see the teenager Brian had been, even more clearly than Mikey's old yearbooks had shown him. He often wondered what it would have been like, growing up with Brian, being teenagers together. Except that they wouldn't have known one another most likely, having come from different backgrounds, different socio-economic classes. Maybe he would have been a different person, a person Brian wouldn’t have looked at twice, wouldn't have bothered with at all. So he smiled, grateful that they'd met when they did, that they'd made the most of their time together. Softly, he said, "You look beautiful."

"So do you," Brian replied as he did look quite fetching in a navy blue suit, a slightly darker than sky blue shirt, and a deep burgundy tie. The hues complemented his eyes and hair perfectly. Brian had remarked more than once that he preferred Justin in blue as it brought out the color of his eyes and he loved Justin's eyes. He took Justin's hand and gazed into those selfsame eyes.

After a moment, Justin broke into a crooked smile. "What?"

"I was just admiring your eyes."

"You see them everyday," he said, although he understood what Brian meant as his made him feel the same way: deep hazel eyes that smoldered with a loden green fire when he was aroused or angry.

"And I admire them everyday." They kissed and stood holding one another, savoring the moment.

Hidden beneath his clothes was the gold waist chain Brian had bought him in the Bahamas. It made him feel decadent wearing it. He couldn't wait to return to the hotel room and have Brian peel away each layer of clothes until he lay naked except for the chain. He was tempted to ask Brian if they couldn't stay at the hotel and order room service instead. Still, he was excited about Le Cirque 2000 too. What they needed to do was to go. Now.

Even though the restaurant was but a brief walk from the hotel, the two celebrants journeyed by car to their destination, alighting in front of Le Cirque with stars in their eyes, anticipating the culinary delights awaiting them inside. For the occasion Brian had sworn not to think about such mundane things as calories or fat and had promised to enjoy himself—and his sumptuous meal, complete with dessert. They'd forgone the tradition of eating their wedding cake on their anniversary since it would have meant bringing it with them on the trip. However, they fully intended to consume it—and each other—once they returned home.

Shown to their table, they devoured the menu and the sights, trying to ascertain if anyone famous dined among them. At least Justin did so; Brian feigned indifference and studied the list of entrees. No one, in his opinion, was as fabulous as they were. Glancing at his spouse once more, caught up in his beauty, he paused in his studying and reached for Justin's hand. Held it and promised everything with his eyes.

Drawing his hand away gently, Justin blushed. "Stop it," he urged under his breath as the waiter arrived and took their drink orders. Very proudly, he asked for, "Champagne," as he was now legal. Still, he was carded, kicking Brian beneath the table as the older man grinned and drawled, "A bottle. Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin."

The poor waiter was hard-pressed to divide his attention between them. Which to choose: the cherubic blond with the bright blue eyes and a smile to match or the sly hazel-eyed devil with the knowing smirk and raised brow? Luckily for him, they weren't available. He had noticed their wedding bands. "Special occasion?" he asked.

"Anniversary," beamed Justin. "We've been married a year."

"Congratulations. I'll return with your champagne."

Left alone with his husband, Justin tilted his head. "I love saying that."

"What?"

"That we've been married for a year."

"Oh yeah?" Brian leaned forward and smiled. Propped his chin on his hand. "Why?"

"I like to see the disappointment on their faces." He laughed as Brian's face registered surprise.

"About which of us?" he asked, recovering nicely.

"Both."

"That's my Baby," he growled. "Always know your worth."

Looking around, Justin commented, "This place is fabulous."

Brian refrained, turned his attention to the menu once more, reminding Justin that, "He'll be back soon."

"Order something for me," Justin said.

"Appetizers, entrée, what?"

"Whatever." Grinned. "I like it when you take charge." Paused. "Daddy."

"Don't you start," Brian warned, already feeling a stirring in his groin.

"Or what?" He mouthed, _You gonna spank me?_

Brian's answer was interrupted by the waiter's return. He opened the bottle without any theatrics (which disappointed Justin as he liked a show) and poured the wine. That done, he went through the specials and, after a moment, asked, "Are you ready to order?"

"We'll have the Lobster Consommé for starters." Closed his menu and handed it to the waiter. "He'll have the Chicken Diable and I'll have the Veal Milanese." His choices were in honor of the meal they'd had at their wedding: Chicken Calabrese and Veal Florentine Royal. He wondered if Justin noticed the significance.

After the waiter had departed, Justin said with a soft smile, "That was very romantic." Raised his glass. "To us."

"To us." The crisp champagne reminded Brian (irrationally, he thought) of Halloween and then he realized it was because it tasted faintly of caramel and apples. He closed his eyes and savored the wine, thinking of the caramel apples Joanie had made one year for him and Claire.

"You know," Justin said after putting down his flute, "I wouldn't have minded staying home."

"Now you tell me," Brian said, shaking his head, Halloween memories gone on a wind that blew them away with the autumn leaves.

"But this is nice too."

"Besides, if we'd stayed home," Brian explained, "we would never have gotten any peace."

Confused, Justin asked, "Why not?"

Brian waved his hand. "Cause Lindz, Joanie, and Jenn wanted to throw us a party."

"Well—"

"Which means they would have been over at our place from sunup to midnight."

Which meant no nookie. "This is better," Justin agreed. "Much better," he added, thinking of the many times they'd made love just today alone.

"Hmm…"

Keeping to his word to have dessert, Brian ordered a flourless chocolate cake with coffee ganache and coffee cream accompanied by coffee granite while Justin sampled the Chocolate Pot de Crème with a vanilla flavored crème brulee, macadamia nut nougatine and vanilla and caramelized macadamia ice cream.

"I've seen Jacques Torres' show on Food Network," Justin told him. "He used to be the Executive Pastry Chef here but he's moved on."

"Can't complain," Brian commented. "That was fabulous." Drank the last bit of his coffee and asked, "Ready?"

"Can't wait." They were going on a carriage ride in Central Park and, as if the heavens had known it was their anniversary, the skies were clear and star-filled.

Paying the bill and leaving a hefty tip, Brian stood and held Justin's chair causing the young man to blush to the tips of his ears. But a woman sitting at the next table smiled and said just loud enough for them to hear, "Chivalry isn't dead." Brian grinned and gestured for Justin to go before him. Coats retrieved and buttoned tight, they made their way over on foot to Fifth Avenue where a line of carriages waited across the street from the Plaza Hotel. It actually wasn't super cold but cold enough that they planned on some serious snuggling once they were in the carriage. Justin felt a momentary twinge of guilt over the fact that the horses were out working but they didn't look miserable and he'd done a little research about them on the internet and figured it was okay for them to take a ride around the park. He'd also read that the drivers around this area would try to entice customers to ride in their carriages as there was no queue and no rule about first-come, first-served but, so far, none of the drivers had tried to get their attention despite the fact that no other tourists had approached them.

Brian strode up to the nearest driver and asked, "How much?"

The man shook his head.

"Excuse me?"

Again, the man shook his head.

"What does that mean?" he asked, although he was perfectly aware of what it meant. The guy didn't want to take them, a gay couple, around the park. He wanted him to say it. He wanted him to say it to their fucking faces.

"It means," the guy said finally, "that I don't hire out to nobody I don't want to."

"Come on, Bri," said Justin, gently tugging on his arm. He'd seen the look on Brian's face and it didn't bode well for the driver. When Brian hesitated, he applied a little more pressure but said nothing more.

Silently, Brian turned from the carriage and looked down at Justin. Saw the desire to avoid trouble in his eyes. Taking his hand, Brian abided by his wishes and they started to go past the other carriages and into the park. They'd do it on foot if they had to.

"Hey, buddy, come on," they heard. "I'll take you."

Looking back at the line of carriages, they saw a man waving to them from a pretty white one and went towards his horse.

"That's Caesar," he explained as Justin reached out and petted the horse's nose. "How long you want to ride?"

"An hour," Brian replied and then he and Justin climbed aboard. "Thanks," he added.

"That guy, total asshole. Probably beats his wife and he's bitching about f—gays," the guy said with a wry grin, hoping they hadn't noticed.

But Brian had and still it didn't bother him. Justin either. They were getting their romantic carriage ride through Central Park and nothing was going to spoil it for them.

To enter the park, the carriage went around a beautiful fountain that immediately reminded them of the ones they'd seen in Rome, and past a statue of General Sherman. Justin whispered that information to Brian as he'd gone on the Central Park website at home and had a map with him.

Over the next hour they took a tour of most of the southern and central parts of the park, from the Grand Army Plaza up as far as the southern tip of the reservoir and then back again, stopping at interesting points so that Brian and Justin could get out and examine some of the statues more closely. As they passed the Children's Zoo and the statue of Balto across from it Justin said, "We have to bring Gus up here." He and Gus had watched the first movie about the heroic huskie one Saturday afternoon when Brian had sequestered himself up in his study working furiously on an account that was in trouble. Despite having Leo and loving him, watching Balto had made Justin yearn for a dog in the worst way.

Getting out to get a look at the Wisteria Pergola, Justin pointed back to the east and said, "The Frisk Collection is over there, on the other side of the wall."

"Another museum," sighed Brian. "Are we going there tomorrow?"

"No," Justin said. "Maybe next time."

"When we bring Gus," promised Brian, because if he said it, he'd made a promise, one he intended to keep.

"He'd love the statue of Mother Goose."

They climbed back into the carriage and the trip began again. In addition to Balto and Mother Goose, there were statues of Hans Christian Anderson (whom they regarded as a little too advanced for Gus at this point), Alice in Wonderland, and the Queen of Hearts fountain. Gus loved Alice in Wonderland, loved shouting, "Off head!" whenever they watched the movie. He especially liked the fact that they played croquet with flamingos. Mel and Lindz had gotten him a croquet set for his birthday and he played almost everyday in summer although he rarely got any of the balls through the hoops unless he was right up on them.

They went past the Metropolitan Museum of Art which they'd visited Friday for a few hours. Actually, they hadn't done as many museums as Brian had feared. They'd actually spent far more time just wandering the streets and talking. Sometimes, it felt as if they hadn't talked in ages. Which was ridiculous because they talked all the time. Really talked. Not just about trivial things like what to have for dinner or whose turn it was to pick up the dry cleaning. They talked about their plans for the future, about Gus, about their relationship, how they were feeling, the house, everything. If anything about Brian had changed over the years that Justin had known him, it was that he was more open to talking. Justin had done that, and Drew, and life. Having to go through a number of extremely trying times had convinced him that he couldn't make it alone anymore, he needed people, he needed Justin and their friends, needed Drew, needed to connect with the people who cared for him, who loved him.

On the other side of the park, they drove past Shakespeare's Garden and statues of Romeo and Juliet and The Tempest. Went by Strawberry Fields and the Imagine Mosaic; Tavern on the Green.

"There are too many great restaurants in New York," declared Justin since it was one of the many places they wouldn't be dining in this time around.

"We'll be back," Brian reminded him. "More than once. We've got the rest of our lives."

Snuggling close to him, Justin smiled.

Soon after the ride drew to a close and they found themselves back where they started and hesitant to dismount. Paying the driver, Brian gave him a healthy tip. "Thanks again."

"Any time."

With Justin's hand in his, Brian asked, "Wanna take a cab or walk?"

Anxious to get back to the hotel, Justin answered, "Cab." The night was still young and it was still their anniversary and there was still celebrating to be done. 

 

They started at the door, taking off piece by piece: coats, gloves, and shoes tossed to the side by the time they reached the dining table, jackets, ties, and socks dumped as they bumped into the edge of the bed, kissing by now in between removing their clothes.

"Should have worn a tee-shirt and some jeans," Brian grumbled as he fought with the buttons on his cuffs.

Struggling with his belt, Justin agreed. "Fuck."

"If I can ever get out of this shit," Brian promised him.

Justin grabbed the front of Brian's shirt and tore it open, one button flying off in the process. His own, he just whipped over his head. Pausing, they came together again, hungry for one another.

Although it was difficult, Brian broke off their kiss, dropped to his knees, and removed Justin's pants. Licked his belly and pulled down his underwear as well. Pushed Justin back onto the spread before standing and taking off the last of his own clothes. He climbed onto the bed and drew Justin to him, their cool bodies already heating up. With one last kiss, Justin parted from him, moved away just a bit, and lay propped up on one elbow, legs resting slightly apart, looking up at his lover from beneath heavy, blond bangs. His creamy skin was an invitation to touch him. The gold chain around his waist winked in the low light of the room. Slowly, he rolled over onto his back and parted his legs. Waiting.

Sliding over to him, Brian ran his hand across his smooth belly, fingers brushing over the chain to move further down and comb through a forest of dark blond hair. Lowered his head and nuzzled Justin's nipple, kissed it leisurely, tongue lolling about the edges.

Justin clasped the back of his neck and whispered urgently, "Make love to me."

Lips hovering over a taut, cinnamon colored nub, Brian smiled, then raised his head to kiss his lover. Hand between the younger man's legs, he lightly cupped his plump scrotum and stroked it as they kissed deeply, Justin moaning into his mouth. They parted again, eyes slightly unfocused, chests rising at a somewhat elevated rate, and just held one another. "I love you," said Brian, bussing him gently on the lips.

Fingers caressing Brian's cheek, Justin replied, "I love you." Kissed his chin and then his lips, and then there were no more words for they weren't needed.

Having begun in haste, they slowed down, savoring every moment. Justin spread before him like a banquet, Brian took his time sampling every delicious morsel. Massaged cinnamon scented oil into his skin, from his shoulders down his arms, down his back, over his hips, down his legs to his feet. When he finished, Justin turned lazily revealing an erection that Brian brushed his lips over, kissing the tip. Then he went about massaging the front of him with as much care as he'd shown the back, until Justin's skin shone. Bag of Honey Dust in hand, Brian sprinkled Justin's body, painting a golden sheen upon him. Having rolled him over onto his stomach again to dust his posterior, he began his feast there, parting his legs, spreading his cheeks, and stretching his tongue to feed on the wrinkled bud between them. A taste of honey.

His hips rose of their own accord as Brian licked up and down the center of him, tongue washing over his hole, the edges drawing close, then opening, hoping to entice the tongue down into their midst. He groaned as Brian teased him, the tip of his tongue playing among the folds of his ass. Reaching back, he gripped his behind and endeavored to spread his cheeks even farther apart, to force his hole to stretch open even wider. He wanted Brian's tongue in him, needed that.

But Brian was content with leisurely eating around his hole, keeping his tongue moving, even if it was a lazy motion, keeping it outside of him, making him hover on the brink of collapse. Every time Justin thought Brian was going to make a foray inside his hole, Brian turned his focus elsewhere, kissing his buttocks or running his tongue up his spine. Justin whimpered and urged him, "Please."

"What?" Brian asked, mouth buried between his shoulder blades.

"Do it."

"Do what?"

"Put it in me," he gasped as Brian had begun licking his hole once more.

"Put what where?" inquired Brian, biting one juicy cheek.

"Your tongue," Justin replied breathlessly.

"Where?"

"In me."

"Where?"

"In my ass," begged Justin.

Brian lapped the edges of his hole, then held a finger to the center of it. Pushed. The pad of his finger entered Justin, then the rest of the digit to sounds of pleasure emanating from the general direction of Justin's chest. For a minute or more, he plied his hole with his finger, relaxing the entrance until he judged it ready. Pressing on either side of Justin's anus, Brian spread him wider and stiffened his tongue.

"Oh!" cried Justin as Brian's tongue entered him. "Yes…" Time lost all meaning as Brian rimmed him until his cock was rock hard.

Drawing his dick back between his thighs, Brian divided his attention between it and Justin's ass, often licking his way up from the tip of his cock, over his balls, and up around his hole. At a sign from Justin, he sucked the head until his lover arched his back and began to grunt.

"Fuck. Fuck… Fuck."

Lips sealed tight around his cock, Brian couldn’t have agreed more. Justin's pisshole opened and precum flooded his tongue. Sliding his mouth all the way up to the base of the shaft, Brian sucked him with obvious pleasure. His own cock was getting harder, rising between his thighs.

Justin writhed about as Brian alternated between sucking his dick, rimming his ass, and licking his balls. He reached back and grabbed Brian's head, held him to his ass and hissed as the man's tongue burrowed inside his hole. Finally, Justin collapsed onto the bed, content to let Brian do as he pleased. Body trembling, he lay there helpless to do anything but moan and to enjoy the fruits of his husband's lovemaking skills.

Loathe to do so but wanting to take things to the next level, Brian withdrew his tongue from Justin's hole and sat up. Moved to the side of the bed and stood. Pulled Justin's body across the comforter until his ass was near the edge of the bed and his legs hung over the side. Standing between his legs, Brian said, "Open up."

Just hearing the words made him dizzy. He held open his cheeks, waiting for Brian to enter him.

The sight of Justin's pink hole made his cock throb. Touching himself, he imagined sinking down upon Justin, sliding between the swollen edges, delving to the depths of him. With a moan, he felt a sudden wetness in his palm. Precum. Dripping like honey. He spread it over his dick and reached for the lube. Stroked his cock a few more times until it practically begged him to fuck Justin. He rested one knee upon the bed and rubbed his cock over Justin's hole. Felt it pucker up, then relax. Rotated his cockhead against the wrinkled opening.

Justin could feel him, hot, wet, and he pushed his hips back, increasing the friction. Take me, his action said and Brian obliged. He groaned as Brian entered him, released his cheeks and braced himself against the bed while Brian continued to fill him. Squeezed his muscles tight as he felt Brian's balls press against his skin. "Oh, Baby," he heard Brian whisper, and he relaxed his hold so that Brian could slide back down.

The bed made nary a sound as they fucked, so smoothly that neither one knew when one motion ended and another began. In and out were part of one continuous movement.

Brian's groin and Justin's buttocks were red where their bodies touched. There were blotches on their chests and necks, further physical manifestations of their arousal.

He supported himself on one hand and used the other to hold onto Justin's waist as he slid in and out. Even as his mind floated, his body remained focused on the moment. There was nothing else but this act of lovemaking. And although his cock was primarily concerned with Justin's ass, he was aware of his entire body, through touching his sweaty skin, smelling his sex, hearing his moans, and tasting him still on his tongue. Feeling his balls throb, Brian withdrew. He didn't want to come just yet. Not yet. He wanted more, wanted it all. Wanted to fuck Justin all night if he could. Crawl inside of him and fuck him from within.

He was burning up and wanted to come so bad he could feel it spewing from his cock. But Brian had stopped moving, had pulled out of him. So it was to be a long night. Which pleased him even as it frustrated him. They'd been married a year, had been having sex for almost four years and Brian had yet to disappoint him, had yet to bore him. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like not having the kind of sex life they had. Trusting Brian implicitly, he waited.

Justin's hole was even puffier around the edges after having been fucked for ten or fifteen minutes and looked so inviting that Brian almost plunged back inside to finish. But he didn't. Instead he pressed down on his money spot and did his deep breathing exercises until he felt in control of his body once more. Going to the bathroom, he cleaned his cock and then came back with a wet cloth and lay down beside Justin, drawing his lover to him. Kissed him gently, then opened his mouth to initiate a more vigorous bout of kissing. Their cocks brushed against one another as they kissed, making love with their tongues, and Justin clasped the two stiff shafts in his hand, keeping them in constant contact. Precum began to spill from the tips, lubing them up, and Justin loved the feel of Brian's slippery cock sliding up against his own. He wondered if that's how Brian and Nic had felt when they'd fucked him in unison that time. As opposed as he'd been to the idea of a threesome at the time, it had turned out to be an unforgettable experience. A shiver went through his hole and he released their cocks and drew Brian's hand down between his legs.

Understanding what was required of him, Brian probed between his cheeks and penetrated him with three of his fingers. As they kissed, he finger fucked Justin until the young man's cock poked against his belly and Justin grabbed his arm and held it still. Chest heaving, he fought to calm down, to make it last, not to come. Slowly, Brian withdrew his fingers and waited while Justin relaxed. They kissed softly as they held one another, barely moving, content just to be touching. By the time they parted again, their erections had subsided significantly.

Justin stroked Brian's belly. His fingers brushed against Brian's cock, still red, the head still slightly flared. Turning head to foot, he grasped the base of Brian's dick and went down on him. Brian gave a tiny cry as he was a little tender but soon he was moaning in the back of his throat as Justin sucked him off. Fumbling between his husband's thighs, he found Justin's cock and began stroking him, feeling him stiffen and then pulse as he tugged on him. Just as he was getting used to this stage of their lovemaking, Justin changed the tenor by nibbling on his cockhead. Brian cried out and rose up off the bed before slumping back down. His dick felt like it'd been assaulted yet the sensation was one of pleasure not pain. Over and over, Justin ran his teeth over the surface of his glans until he thought he would lose his mind. Then, perversely, Justin licked over the same area, eliciting much the same response. Finally, he probed his pisshole with the tip of his tongue, digging down into the hole making Brian shout.

Sucking the edges of Brian's cockhead, Justin licked beneath the cap, then took him into his mouth and slid down the shaft. His head bobbed over Brian's groin as he blew him, loving the power he had over his man, taming his proud cock. When he released Brian, he was extended to his full length and swollen to his widest girth. Precum bubbled from his cock and spilled onto his belly. Justin licked it from his skin. He wanted him now.

Under Justin's direction, Brian sat up against the headboard of the bed and held his cock away from his stomach. Justin straddled his hips, facing away from him, and sat down on his cock.

"Yes!" he cried as he was pierced to the core. With Brian's hands around his waist, supporting him, he rose and fell upon his lover's dick, fucking himself with abandon. He twisted his head to kiss Brian, their mouths joined as they bounced on the bed. Rocking on Brian's cock, he felt a hand around his own, jacking him off.

For Brian, making love to Justin was like discovering all of a sudden that you owned something precious and rare, something that maybe had seemed commonplace once upon a time but now had acquired a value beyond reckoning. Justin cradled against Brian's chest, intimately joined to him, they were so complete together, in and of themselves, that the world could have ended and they wouldn't have had any regrets save that they did not have more time to be together.

_I am Yes  
I am your Yes _

_I am I am your  
Yes Yes Yes_

Both of them still shaken from having come, sweat glistening on their bodies, Brian carried Justin to the bathroom and plunged them into a tub of lukewarm water to cool them off. Forehead pressed to Brian's shoulder, Justin trembled in his arms. "I can still feel you inside me," he whispered, tears trickling down his cheeks. He wanted to say more but couldn’t, couldn't find the words to explain what he meant, to explain how profoundly he'd been affected by their lovemaking. He felt rived to the core, exposed, raw. Gently, Brian kissed his temple and held him in silence, knowing exactly how Justin felt because it echoed his own feelings.

_I am into your fire  
I am into your fire over my head _

_Do me to a turn  
Burn me to the ground  
I am into your fire for my life_

"I thought," Justin began again, "that I had lost you." The episode with Kenneth. "I thought you would do it… that you would kill yourself." He'd been holding it inside for so long, the fear and, now, after having been so open to Brian, his feelings spilled out. "I don't know what I would have done."

"Never again. That's what I promised you, remember?" After the attempt two years ago, he'd sworn to Justin that he would never again allow himself to become that desperate. Fiercely, he held his lover to his chest. "I'll never leave you. I promise. No matter what." 

The wind ruffling their hair, they stood on the outside deck of the Empire State Building, behind the metal fence, and gazed out over the city. They'd decided to skip the Statue of Liberty, saving it for when they brought Gus with them. Secretly, Justin thought it had something to do with the conspicuous absence of the Twin Towers from the skyline. Brian had found out in the months after Sept. 11 that his college friend had indeed been among the dead and, while they hadn't been close, still his death had affected him deeply. But today, all such thoughts of mortality had vanished. The sun was out and even though it was chilly, they relished the experience and laughed like children. Ignoring the other passengers in the elevator, they kissed on the ride down only parting as the doors opened and everyone spilled out to go their separate ways.

At lunch, they held hands, sitting next to one another and sharing their meals, garnering looks from the other diners as they giggled over some private joke and almost choked on their cocktails. Aureole's didn't disappoint although even they had to admit that they were not as focused on the cuisine as they might have been. Maybe it was a holdover from last night, from the closeness they'd felt, but their greatest desire was to go home and be alone, be together.

Retrieving his credit card from the waiter, Brian asked, "Ready?"

"I've been ready."

They made one stop to pick up their luggage from the hotel, thanked the staff for a most enjoyable stay, and headed for the airport. It was time to say goodbye to the Big Apple and return to Pitts. 

 

Stepping out of the Cherokee, Justin stood for a moment in the yard and smiled before grabbing his stuff from the back and following Brian to the house. Their house. Their home. Just inside the front door, they stopped and, with lazy grins on their faces, began to kiss. "Bed," whispered Justin between kisses.

"Uh-huh," replied Brian.

But before they could start up the stairs, Justin smelled… food. Broke away. "I smell food."

"That's because you're always either hungry or ready to fuck."

"Don't you smell it?"

"Better food than cat shit."

"So gross," said Justin, wrinkling his nose.

"But you love me anyway." Pulling Justin into his arms, he began to kiss him again and the younger man forgot all about food and turned his mind to more important things.

"I felt that," Justin mumbled and they both chuckled as they kissed. He was just about to unzip his pants when the lights came on and someone yelled, "Surprise!"

Brian jerked away from him and slumped against the wall. "Fuck. You almost made me swallow Justin's tongue."

The gang came from out of the living and dining rooms, sheepish looks on their faces. All except Deb.

"Well, we figured we'd better stop you before you two got busy. I, for one," said Debbie, "have no desire to listen to you two fucking. Again."

Exasperated, Justin asked, "Is there anyone here who hasn't heard us fucking?" No one said anything and the whole gang was there minus Jeff, Molly, Daphne, and Justin's friends from IFA. He sighed and shook his head.

Gus bounced up and down trying to get Brian's attention until his daddy picked him up and kissed him soundly. "You miss us?"

"Yeah."

"We missed you too." Turned to the others. "So what are you freeloaders doing here?"

Lindsay said, "We decided to throw you an anniversary party."

"Our anniversary was yesterday."

"Well, you weren't here."

"Exactly," he pointed out. "We weren't here. Hence there was no need for a party."

"You haven't had your anniversary cake yet."

"We were planning on having it tonight," he smirked. "In private."

"Well, you still can," said Joanie, anxious to steer the conversation away from sex. "After you have dinner with us and open your presents." She kissed his cheek. "Happy Anniversary, Son."

"Thanks, Ma." He exchanged looks with her and she smiled. Then he did too. Everything was ready.

Having recovered from being embarrassed, Justin asked, "So where's the food?"

"In the conservatory," said Mel.

"Why's it out there? We've got two dining tables."

Putting Gus down, Brian caught the front of his sweater in between his fingers and tugged. "Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner they'll go." Leaned in. "And we can fuck. All. Night. Long."

"I've got school tomorrow."

"Be late." Brian paused at the doors of the conservatory, then threw them open and went in first. Cut on the lights.

Behind him Justin was about to grouse about having a party out in the practically bare conservatory when Brian stepped to the side and he saw the room for the first time. Mouth open, he just stared for a few moments. Then he found his voice. "Brian?"

He bussed him on the cheek. "Happy Anniversary, Baby."

Over the past year they'd managed to decorate every room of the house except for the sunroom since it was used primarily as a work space for Justin and he'd insisted that all he needed was his drafting table, his chair, Gus' easel, and a cabinet to keep his supplies in. Which, aside from a few anemic looking plants and the mosaic table and chair set, had been the only objects in the room when they'd left for New York. Everything had changed.

Replacing the mosaic set was a reddish-brown stained rattan dining ensemble with cushions covered in a fabric that featured fanciful vines and buds in burgundy on a gold background. Rather than going with the typical-looking wicker set, Brian and Joanie had found a stylish suite that echoed the past, the rounded backs and turned legs giving the suite a more formal look. Over it hung a bronze colored chandelier with an alabaster bowl and cup shades. To the right of the table was a loveseat and sofa that matched the dining set except that the cushions had been done in complimentary fabric to add visual interest.

To the left of the room was a dark rattan armoire standing next to a winged-back chair grouped with an ottoman, a small bombé chest, and a reading lamp. The doors of the armoire were open to reveal Justin's art supplies, and some of his art books.

Next to his drafting table and Gus' easel was a second easel made of walnut. Obviously an antique with an intricately carved crest at the top and incised details on the legs. Justin touched it in wonder.

"Victorian Renaissance Revival," explained Brian. He could see the question in Justin's eyes and preempted it with, "Don't ask." He had definitely paid more for items in the past but the easel had cost a pretty penny, especially for so little wood. But it was an antique and he could already tell that Justin loved it, loved all of the furniture in the room.

And everywhere there were plants. Green foliage in every imaginable shade and shape. Even though it was still winter there were brightly colored blossoms all over to bring a touch of spring to the room. In terra cotta and wooden planters, glazed pottery and shiny copper pots, aligned on the floor along the walls, on shelves, and hanging from the ceiling, plants and foliage of every color, shape, and size softened the sharp lines of the conservatory. There was even a water feature, a bamboo basket with a stone bowl inside, water bubbling from the center. Paradoxically, it managed to bring warmth to the room.

Justin turned to his husband, practically speechless. "Brian…"

"You like it?"

"I love it. How?"

"My mom and I have been working on it for two or three months now. Ordered everything and then she came over on Friday and they've been here the whole weekend getting things ready."

He threw his arms around his neck and embraced him. "Thank you."

"Anything for my Baby."

Irrationally, Justin felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. He looked aside and tried to thumb them away.

"What's wrong?"

It came to him in an instant. "You do so much for me," he said, remembering what he'd told Brian and the entire congregation the day of their wedding: _"He loves so much, gives so much, it makes me ashamed of how little I have to give him. All I have is me."_

"It's nothing."

"No—"

"Trust me," Brian told him and he held his face in his hands and kissed him softly and reminded Justin of what he'd said that day: _"He deserves everything that I have because I can't live without him. Without him, there's nothing, because he means everything to me." "It's nothing compared to what you do for me. What you give me. I wouldn't have anything if I didn't have you."_ They embraced tightly.

"You'll always have me," promised Justin and it was one promise he knew he'd be able to keep all the days of his life. 

More like a family dinner than a party, they dined on a hearty Tuscan vegetable soup served with rosemary chicken and schiacciata, or flatbread. Gus insisted on sitting between Brian and Justin on the sofa after having been away from them for over a week. Leo curled at their feet, having explored the newly decorated room thoroughly. He hoped that Justin left the door open at night so that he could add it to his rounds. Since Leo had stayed with Gus at his mommies' house, the tot had to give his daddies a complete report regarding the cat's activities during his three-night visit, careful to tell them about playing ball with Leo and how the cat had scratched him when he tried to take the ball away from him. Brian kissed the spot causing Gus to giggle but he did say afterwards that it felt much better now that Daddy had kissed it.

"Is that what you tell him after he kisses your boo-boos?" Mel asked Justin.

"I usually don't say anything at all," he replied.

"Too busy moaning," Brian added, earning him a dirty look.

"We know," everyone else said, laughing. They'd all heard Justin moan, even Joanie and Jenn, who both turned red at the memory.

To turn them from that topic, Justin introduced another. "So, where are our anniversary presents?"

Lindz went to her bag and pulled out two packages. Handed one to each of them. "From all of us."

"For me?" Brian asked in mock surprise. He opened it quickly then looked up in confusion as he saw what it was.

"Show us," Vic demanded.

"Napkins," said Brian, holding them up. But they weren't just any old napkins.

"Martinelli Ginetto," announced Justin who had opened up his present and found a coordinating tablecloth. "They're beautiful." A gorgeous damask tablecloth in gold paired with rich apricot-colored napkins in an ornate floral pattern that complimented the gold silk dupioni drapes and the deep red and gold chenille jacquard fabrics on their dining chairs perfectly. He could hardly wait to set the table with their new linen. "Thanks, guys. This is fantastic."

"Well, we started to get you a paper gift since it's your first anniversary but I convinced them that this would be so much better," said Em.

"And so much more expensive," groused Ted who had loaned Em the money to contribute to the gift.

"I can't wait until Christmas," said Jenn. She'd agreed to spend Christmas with Brian and Justin this year and, instead of going to visit her mom, her mother was coming down to stay with Jenn. Or Justin and Brian. Depended on how she felt about her mom by that time. In any case, she knew the dining room would be stunning, the new linen adding just the right touch to an already magnificent room.

Last Christmas the guys had come over to Brian and Justin's for Christmas dinner—even Joanie, along with Claire and her brood. They'd set up a kids' table where Gus had reigned despite being the youngest. This was his house and he'd made sure that John and Peter knew it. But he had let them play with his toys—not the new ones—but the ones he already had upstairs in his room. Leo, he kept from them as well, not certain if the two boisterous boys knew how to treat a cat.

Justin could still see the tree they'd erected in the reception hall, resplendent in garnet and gold. He'd gotten Brian to let him hang icicle lights along the front of the house even though the house was hidden from the street traffic and no one but them and their guests would ever see or appreciate their efforts. The entire house had looked so beautiful, both inside and out. Joanie had helped but he and Brian had done most of the work. It'd been the best Christmas ever, their first in their new home, first as a married couple. They'd sent out homemade Christmas cards from Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor-Kinney with a picture of the two of them on the cover. Brian had grumbled a bit at that part, saying it was way too precious for him, but he'd taken the picture and signed his name to the cards. To Justin's way of thinking, it'd been the perfect Christmas. This year would be even better.

Watching his partner, Brian could tell that he was already planning for the holidays and it made him smile, how excited Justin got about decorating the house and having friends and family over. He supposed, if he were being honest with himself, he'd admit how much he enjoyed it as well. Not as much as Justin, but he didn't hate it. Besides, it gave him something to think about during the holidays other than work. And seeing the joy on Gus' face when he opened his presents was worth every irritating person in the eternity checkout lines at every store, every annoying Muzak Christmas carol, every screeching kid and bellowing adult trying to hold onto a shred of holiday spirit. Last year he and Justin had given Gus a fiery red tricycle. The toddler had loved it. They kept it in the garage for Gus to ride up and down the driveway and sidewalks when he visited and the sidewalks and driveway were clear of snow. He wondered what he'd get him this year. Maybe he would be old enough for the Baby Jeep he'd been threatening to buy him every year since he was born as he would finally turn four this summer, the recommended age according to the manufacturers.

"So do you know what all of these plants are?" Michael asked Justin.

He shook his head. "I don't know shit about flowers."

"You will," Joanie promised him. "There are tags on everything and detailed instructions in the armoire."

"How many different plants are in here?" Jenn asked.

"Twenty. Bouganvillea, Camellia, Ficus, three kinds of Fuchsia, Jasmine, Calla Lilies… Something for every season. There's even an orange tree."

"Will it produce real oranges?" asked Justin.

"Eventually."

Ted said enviously, "Freshly squeezed orange juice from your very own orange tree."

Looking around, Em said, "I definitely need to find myself a sugar daddy."

Justin choked on his wine and Brian laughed as he patted his back. 

 

Their guests had all gone, even Gus, although he'd made a big fuss. He hated leaving Leo just as much as he did his daddies. But Lindsay and Melanie hadn't given him any choice: he had to go home. To his other home. And leave Leo and his daddies behind. Of course, he wrangled a promise from all of the adults to let him stay the upcoming weekend before he'd allow his mommies to take him away. Like Brian, he understood his position in life and how to make the most of it.

House to themselves, Brian and Justin carried their slice of wedding cake upstairs to eat in their suite. They loved having the two seating areas in their room as well as the bistro table and chairs out on the pergola where they could have intimate, romantic meals. As if they didn't have the entire house in which to have intimate, romantic meals. But, somehow, having dinner in their suite made it that much more special. Private. And closer to the bed. Turning on the fireplace, they curled up on the sofa and fed bits of cake to one another in between kisses until their mouths and faces were sweet with frosting. Then, leaving the plate upon the coffee table, they retired.

"That wasn't too bad," said Justin. "The party," he explained.

"Nope. Maybe we should go away next year too."

"We're going to Maui, remember? In the summer."

Brian kissed the tip of Justin's nose. "We could go back to the inn. Just for a day. Or two. Or we could stay in a hotel here in town, like we did that year for Valentine's Day."

"That was amazing."

"Sans Souci was amazing."

"You were amazing," Justin told him, remembering the skywriting above IFA. "J, I love u. B.," with a heart in place of the word 'love'. He would never forget that day. But he didn't think anything could top this year's anniversary and Brian's gift to him. Just thinking about his new studio made him smile.

Brian noticed. "Happy?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"I told you—"

"I know. But thanks anyway."

"You're welcome."

Justin burrowed closer. Laid his head on Brian's chest. "I love you, Pookie."

He remembered the first time Justin had called him that, in London, all those years ago. Jesus. Years ago. He tightened his hold, until he could feel Justin's heart beating against his chest, keeping him alive, keeping both of them alive. "I love you too, Baby."

Within moments, content to be home again and where they belonged, in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep. 

 

He missed Justin even before he'd awakened completely. Opening his eyes, he reached back to feel an empty space behind him. Smiled. He knew where Justin was. Downstairs in his newly decorated studio. The young artist had beamed all evening, pleased beyond words with the space. Brian imagined him curled up in his armchair flipping through his book on Lucien Freud, mind awash with ideas, hardly able to wait until the next day to put them down on paper. Remembered when he'd been like that, just starting out in advertising, ready to set the world on fire with his brilliance. Years later, he'd accomplished most of his goals. And he had something he'd never thought he'd have: a family. Rubbing the ring on his finger, he felt another smile flitter across his lips. And then it faded.

Although he would never tell Justin, he had thought of killing himself after the incident with Kenneth. He hadn't wanted to go on, hadn't wanted to live with the knowledge of what had happened. There had been a moment when he'd felt so empty, so devoid of life that it would have been a simple thing to just not be anymore. Sitting in his office at work, he'd thought, I can do it here and not taint the house for Justin, making it impossible for him to live there. He deserved that much, to keep his home, the home they'd made together. And it had hurt so badly that he'd gotten up, intending to go into the bathroom and take the pills he'd been hoarding for weeks, and then he'd seen it. The portrait Justin had done of him and Gus, asleep on the couch, the one he'd given Brian their first Christmas together after they'd exchanged rings. He'd stood and studied the picture, imagining all of the Christmases he'd miss, the anniversaries and birthdays, and he'd begun to cry. He couldn't leave Justin. He no longer had the will to do so. All he could do was go on. So he'd cleaned up and finished out the day and gone home, determined to live.

Checking the clock, he saw that it was a little past midnight; it'd be an hour earlier in Birmingham. Before he could change his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed. In between the first and second rings he almost hung up but then he heard Kenneth's voice.

"Hello?"

Paused. Then, "Kenneth."

Silence.

Brian's hand shook. He would hang up then, if Kenneth didn't want to talk to him.

"I'm surprised to hear from you."

Deep breath. "I thought… we could talk."

"Happy Anniversary."

"Thanks."

"You do something special?"

"Kenneth—"

"We're talking. I'm expressing an interest in your life, acknowledging your marriage, what the fuck more do you want from me?"

He couldn’t deal with Kenneth's anger, shouldn't have called. "I made a mistake—"

"Wait. Don't hang up."

He waited.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry about what happened." There'd been so many misunderstandings, so many things said that were nearly impossible to take back, so much pain and anguish on both sides.

"I know. So am I."

"I… I thought maybe… " Rubbed his face. "I don't know… That we could be friends."

There was a long pause, then Kenneth said, "Brian… I'm sorry."

He sniffled. "Yeah." Attempted a wry grin. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Brian—"

"Night." He hung up the phone and squeezed his eyes shut. A tear slipped beneath his lid and he hastily wiped it away. Sat with his arms wrapped around his middle thinking maybe, maybe Kenneth would call and they could work something out, maybe it didn't have to end this way, that maybe, for once, he could salvage something, keep something to hold onto other than the misery.

But the phone didn't ring and, after a while, he was able to put away the hurt. For now.

Unable to sleep without Justin, he got out his book of poetry and began to read, to wait for his husband to return to bed.

_So reaffirm firmly what began with a Yes  
and praise the right thing that improved on the dream. _

 

**Poetry:**

"Anthem of St. Priapus," "Wondrous the Merge," "The Aisles of Eden," and "Always Ever and Only" by James Broughton from Ecstasies.


	7. To Wander in His Shade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has a final confrontation with Kenneth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** This chapter has graphic scene of suicide by non-canon character.

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade_  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:  
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
So long lives this and this gives life to thee. 

from "Sonnet XVIII" by William Shakespeare

Sometimes they liked it rough and tonight was one of those nights. Justin had taken control of the scene and used the paddle on him, giving him three firm licks per cheek before putting it away and kissing his reddened skin.

Brian could hear him digging around in the toy chest and wondered what was next. He was lying on his stomach and couldn't see what Justin was doing but he trusted him, knew that, no matter what, Justin wouldn't hurt him. It was only as Justin pulled back his arm and snapped on the wrist band that he realized he was being shackled.

"No!" he yelled and snatched his arm away, tearing at the restraint. He didn't know why but he did not want it around his wrist, the feeling was instinctual and had no rational basis. He felt like a wild animal in a trap, shredding its own flesh to be free.

"Brian?" Justin was immediately alarmed and reached to help him but Brian shoved him away.

"Don't." He got the wrist band off and threw the shackles to the floor. His chest was heaving and he felt dizzy. There were red marks on his wrist, where his nails had scratched the skin.

"What's wrong? Brian?"

He pressed his fingertips into his temples. Saw

_Someone holding his arm behind his back._

"No," he whispered. Saw

_Himself, face down on a bed, arms held up over his head._

_A man fucking him. Hard._

_His face, tears streaking his cheeks._

He shook his head. "No." It couldn't be. He had believed him, believed him when he said that it had been consensual. _Oh God…_

Carefully, Justin neared him. Didn't move to touch him. He'd seen Brian like this before and knew how skittish he could be, how anything could set him off. He spoke softly, hoping the tone of his voice would calm him. "Brian?"

He looked over at him, grief marking his face as age had not. "He…"

"Who?"

Taking another breath, Brian said, "He raped me."

Justin couldn't speak for a moment. "Are you sure?" No need to ask who Brian was talking about. A vein in Justin's forehead pulsed and he had to clamp down on the urge to run from the house screaming.

"I remember." Brian could see it in his mind. "He must have given me something…" Remembered stumbling up the stairs, Kenneth holding his arm to steady him. Remembered lying on the bed, hoping the room would stop spinning. He'd imbibed more than alcohol that evening. He remembered Kenneth coming to him and trying to kiss him. He'd turned his head, tried to avoid the man's attentions and when it had become obvious that Kenneth didn't intend to stop, he'd fought him but all strength had left his limbs and he'd resorted to begging Kenneth to let him go. "Then he held me down…" He'd pleaded with him even as Kenneth gripped his arms. _"Kenneth, don't. Don't…_ "And he raped me." His voice faded on the last word as did he.

To Justin, he seemed to wan. "Brian… I'm sorry," he said and, to his surprise, Brian came to him and allowed Justin to hold him. He did not weep but he shook as if standing naked in the snow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" said Justin over and over again, "I'm sorry…" the words becoming a balm to soothe the hurt. 

 

Justin had gone downstairs to fix him a drink. Huddled on the bed, head resting on his knees, he wished he could go back in time, back to that night in Birmingham. Why had he gone to that party? Why hadn't he gone home, taken an early flight and returned to Pitts? Hearing Justin in the doorway, he attempted to piece himself together before Justin could see how tattered he was.

But Justin knew. Taking his place by his side, he offered Brian the drink, watched as he knocked it back, and placed the empty glass on the night stand. He stroked Brian's cheek, fingers soothing tensed muscles. "You should try and sleep."

"I believed him," Brian said softly. "…so stupid."

"Don't think about that right now." Gently, Justin told him, "Come on, lie down."

With Justin's help, Brian got under the covers but he didn't close his eyes. Eyes that glistened with a fear he hoped was unobservable.

Justin cupped his face and kissed his cheek. "I'll be right here. I won't go anywhere."

Brian exhaled noisily. Justin had known that he was afraid. He could hide nothing from him. One lone tear escaped from beneath his eyelid and Justin kissed it away.

"It'll be okay. I promise. I promise," he whispered against his skin. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again." 

 

It'd taken a while for Brian to let go and sleep and even then Justin hadn't left him, had sat by him for another ten, fifteen minutes to make sure he had gone under. Satisfied at last, Justin crept from the suite and went downstairs to use the kitchen phone. Hands shaking, he dialed a number Brian had given him almost a year ago, in case of an emergency. A man's voice came on the line.

"Hello?"

Justin shook, not from fear but from anger. And when he spoke, it was with a harshness born of rage. "He remembered what you did to him."

Silence. Then, "Justin?"

"You raped him. You drugged him and then you raped him, you sick sonofabitch. And if you ever come near him again, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand? I will kill you." He replaced the phone and leaned his head against the wall and cried. 

 

_He couldn’t breathe. His face was pressed into something soft and he couldn't breathe, couldn't cry for help, couldn't do anything but endure. Each time Kenneth entered him, he wanted to scream but he couldn't._

_He couldn't move. Kenneth had him pinned to the bed, arms stretched over his head, legs forced apart by Kenneth's knees. The man had at least twenty pounds on him and it was enough, aided by the drug coursing through Brian's veins. He didn't know what Kenneth had given him but he knew he'd been drugged. His limbs felt heavy and he couldn't focus his eyes, focus his thoughts._

_Which was a good thing as it kept him from thinking about Justin too much. Justin! he cried inside his mind. Justin! Only Justin couldn't help him now, no one could. The only thing he could do was to lie still until it was over._

_And forget._

He awoke with a jerk. Looked around him to see where he was, expecting to wake up in Kenneth's bed again. There was Justin. Asleep. No bad dreams to keep him awake. No unpleasant memories.

No sense in both of them lying awake. Brian eased from the bed and padded downstairs, Leo having risen silently to join him. Together, they piled onto the sectional and watched television, the volume turned down low, the glow from the screen flickering over their faces in the dark. Grateful for Leo's company, Brian stroked the cat's fur, gleaning comfort from the simple motion. Everything's okay, he told himself. Everything's normal. It'd be the twenty-sixth in a few weeks and Justin had planned an extravaganza for his thirty-third birthday. He'd made some sacrilegious comment about being the same age as Christ when he died—but not within Joanie's earshot or she would have given him a tongue lashing that would have left him marked for life. "Everything's all right," he whispered.

"Then why don't I believe you?" asked Justin. Despite the fact that Brian had yet to cry, Justin knew he was aching inside and bottling it up would only acerbate the problem.

Sniffling, Brian asked, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why aren't you?"

Twenty questions. "I…" He fumbled with the remote. "I can't," he confessed.

"Bad dreams?" Justin asked as he plopped down next to him, displacing Leo who scrambled up onto the back of the sofa.

Instead of answering Brian said, "Every spring… I'm beginning to fuckin' hate spring." He laughed abruptly, as did Justin: he'd been having the very same thought. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" When Brian didn't respond, Justin shook him gently. "Sorry for what?"

"For this."

"Keeping me up?"

Frowning, Brian said tightly, "For being a fuckin' idiot over and over again."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't do anything right either." He flipped off the television. "As usual."

When he was in his martyr mood, there was nothing Justin could do except wait it out. Brushing Brian's bangs back from his forehead, he offered a suggestion. "I think you should see Dr. Drew."

The thought alone of going to Drew and baring his soul yet again was enough to anger him. "I don't need to see him. I don’t want to see him. So drop it."

"Fine." Justin stood and started from the room. There was no point in continuing the conversation.

What am I doing? he asked himself, confused by his own actions. "Justin…"

He paused, the plaintive tone of Brian's voice getting him right in the chest.

"Help me."

Justin returned to the sofa and embraced his spouse, lending what strength he had.

Naked need forced him to continue. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay, we'll figure it out. We won't stop until we do."

Face buried in Justin's neck, Brian tightened his arms around him. Justin would find a way, he always did. 

 

From the moment he'd gotten Justin's call, he'd known this one would be a bad one. The last few sessions he'd had with the ad exec, he'd gotten the distinct impression that something was brewing just beneath the surface unbeknownst even to Brian. When he'd picked up the phone and heard Justin's voice, he'd known that matters had erupted.

As Brian entered the office, he was certain his hunches had, unfortunately, been borne out. The man looked drained of all energy, his hair disheveled, clothes hanging on him as if he'd dropped ten pounds overnight. Once his patient had settled down, Drew asked, "What's going on?"

Without once looking at the therapist, Brian replied, "Last night I remembered what happened in Birmingham last year." His normally soft voice was even softer.

Yet Drew had heard every word clearly. Oh God, he thought. Not that.

"Kenneth… raped me. I remembered it."

"Why didn't you call me last night?" He'd given Brian his home number just for such emergencies.

"Figured someone should get some rest."

Despite the smart-ass answer, he could tell Brian was about ten minutes away from losing it and he needed to get as much information from him as he could. "What were you doing when you remembered?"

"Playing with Justin."

"What happened? Specifically?"

"He started to put something around my wrist and I freaked." He sniffled. "Kenneth… He …" Tears dropped into his lap.

Moving closer to him, Drew reached for his knee. "Brian?"

His shoulders shook as he cried and he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover his face.

"You don't have to hide from me," Drew told him. "It's okay to cry. It's okay."

Having held back the tears with Justin, Brian now released them. This was a safe place, Dr. Drew would never betray him and he didn't have to pretend to be strong when he wasn't.

After a minute or so, Brian wiped his face, crying jag over for the time being. "Fuck."

"What?"

"I had a meeting today." He'd just remembered. Christ, the partners would be pissed.

"Fuck it. You're more important." Brian didn't dispute him but he didn't continue their conversation either. Instead, he stood and went over to the window, his favorite place in Drew's office, and stared out of it. The psychiatrist let him be. He'd come back when he was ready.

Finally Brian tired of the view and returned to his seat. "Why did he do it?"

Drew returned the question. "Why do you think he raped you?"

"Because I was stupid."

"Brian—"

"Because I let him."

Rather than argue with him, Drew decided to try and dissect his feelings. "How did you do that?"

"I went to his party when I knew I shouldn't have."

"Why not?"

"I should have gone home."

"Did you imagine that he'd drug you and rape you?"

"No."

"Then how were you stupid?"

"I shouldn't have been drinking."

"Were you the only person drinking?"

"No." He paused. "But I was the only person who was raped."

"Brian…"

"Do you remember me saying that I didn't know what was worse: being raped or being with him because I wanted to be?"

"I remember."

"This is worse." Tears spilled over his cheeks. "I wish I had never remembered."

"Why is this worse?"

He glanced away from then back at Drew. "Because it's twice now. It's like some kind of fucking joke." Brian rose.

"Brian—"

"I have to go."

"Our time isn't up yet." And they had barely scratched the surface of the current issue.

"I have to go," he repeated.

Drew stood and gripped his arm lightly. "Brian, please, let's talk about this."

He shook off Drew's hand, then started for the door but Becker blocked his way.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Is Justin there?"

"He's in class."

"I want you to call your mom then."

"She's in class too."

"What about Lindsay? Michael? One of your other friends?"

"I don’t need babysitting."

"I'm not letting you out of this office to go home alone. So you'd better think of someone and call them right now."

"You can't keep me here."

"I will if I have to. Goddamnit," Drew said exasperatedly, "I'm trying to save your life."

"Maybe it's not worth saving."

"Tell that to Justin."

Remembering the promises he'd made to his lover both on their wedding day and since, Brian relented. "Debbie has Mondays off."

Drew folded his arms. "Then call her." 

 

She'd taken one look at him in Drew's office and hauled him home to talk. So much for ending his session prematurely. Sitting him down across from her, she fixed him with a look that she'd perfected over the years and said, "Well?"

"I really don’t want to—"

"I gave up my day off to come over here. The least you can do is to talk to me." As if anything could have kept her from coming once she'd gotten his call.

"I don't think you want to hear this."

"Try me." If only people knew half of what she'd heard over the years working at the diner. And they were shocked at the things she said…

"Kenneth Harris… raped me last year."

"But I thought Justin said…"

"I couldn't remember. For a whole year I couldn't remember. Now I do. He raped me."

God love him, that was twice now that he'd been in a bad situation. "Brian… Kiddo, I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Not the end of the world."

Knowing how much he hated being babied, she decided to leave him alone for a while. "You eat any breakfast?"

"No."

"Almost twelve."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will be by the time I finish cooking." Dusting off her pants, she headed for the kitchen.

"Deb?"

She turned. He sounded weak, unusual for him. "Yeah?"

It took two attempts before he could get the words out. "Could you call Justin?" He felt chilled to the bone.

"I'll call him." Using the phone in the kitchen, Deb dialed Justin's cell and counted the seconds until he answered. He sounded panicked. Immediately, she said, "He's all right. He's home. I'm here with him but he wants you. Sunshine—"

"I'm on my way."

The connection was severed. She checked the family room: Brian was curled up on the sofa, shaking. Unable to comfort him, she went about making lunch and hoped Justin came soon.

He arrived before she'd finished deciding what to prepare. The Cherokee squealed to a halt outside and Justin came rushing through the side door, not even closing it behind him. As if guided by instinct, he found Brian in the family room and knelt next to him.

"I should have gone with you."

"I didn't want you to miss class."

"I couldn't concentrate anyway." He sat by him.

"I thought I could…"

"I know. It's okay. I'm here now." Brian laid his head on Justin's shoulder. "What is it?"

"I'm tired."

Justin eased him back onto the sofa. Found a throw and spread it over him. "Then go to sleep."

"I can't." His mind was constantly bombarded with thoughts and he couldn't find shelter from them.

"I'll get your pills."

"I don't want to—"

"Don't argue with me." Leaving him there, Justin ran upstairs to get the prescription sleeping pills that Brian hardly ever took. When he returned, he got a bottle of water from the beverage center and watched Brian swallow two of the pills.

"Thanks, Baby."

"Now, go to sleep." Leo had come in and jumped up on the sofa, settling down near Brian's feet. "Leo'll keep you company."

"Where are you going?"

Justin heard the fear in his voice. "Nowhere," he assured him. "I'm staying right here until you fall asleep."

Brian shut his eyes, too tired to keep them open even without a sleep aid.

"I love you," Justin told him.

"I love you."

He sat on the floor until Brian dozed off then, quietly, got up and went into the kitchen where Debbie sat at the island watching TV on the Icebox flip screen they'd had installed under the bottom of the upper cabinet by the sink.

"Is he okay?"

Justin shook his head. Took a seat next to hers. "I could kill Kenneth. I swear to God, Deb, if he were here, I'd kill him."

"Honey, I know you're angry—"

"Look at what he's done to Brian. How? How could he do that to him?"

"I don't know."

"Fuckin' asshole. Brian was just saying in New York how he wished there'd been something left between them. He actually felt guilty because their friendship was over. And that—that bastard was walking around… pretending that…" He couldn't finish.

Deb slipped her arms around him as he shed angry tears. "We'll take care of him, Sunshine. Don't worry. Brian will be all right."

But he wasn't so certain and he wanted to be. Needed to be for Brian's sake. 

 

He was on his way to pick up Gus to spend the weekend and his hands shook on the steering wheel so much that he pulled over and parked just to give himself a moment. This Sunday would mark the end of the second week since Brian had remembered Birmingham and he didn't know if he could take a third week like the last two. Both of them tiptoeing around the house, afraid to cause the slightest stirring, afraid that any motion would overturn the delicate structure their lives had become. They did not speak about Kenneth, did not mention Birmingham, did not talk about Brian's twice weekly sessions with Drew. Not that Justin didn't want to but he knew that Brian was unwilling to do so. It was enough for him to have to think about it, dream about it, discuss it with his therapist without having to bare his soul to Justin when they were together. Still, Justin knew. How could he not know? Lying next to Brian at night, he watched him twitch as he dreamed; at meals he studied his pained expressions; and after every session with Drew, he saw tension and misery in every motion Brian made.

Worse, they hadn't been intimate since the incident that had precipitated Brian's remembering. They'd kissed, even touched one another briefly, but it went no further than that. Justin, afraid of being rebuffed, hadn't even attempted to initiate any lovemaking. And he understood that, although the rape had occurred a year ago, Brian was only now living through the trauma of having been assaulted. He understood that and he wanted to be patient and he wanted to take it as slowly as Brian needed but he missed him, missed him so badly that sometimes he left bed and sat in his conservatory and wept until his need subsided. More than once, at school, he'd paused in his work and wiped away tears that had suddenly sprung to the corners of his eyes. Xavier and Rennie tried to help but there was very little they could do to repair the rift between the two partners. There was very little anyone could do, including the partners themselves.

 _Love looks away_  
In the harsh light of the day  
On the edge of nothing more  
Days fade to black  
In the light of what they lack  
Nothing's measured by what it needs 1

Having regained some measure of composure, he started the car again and proceeded to the Munchers' house where Gus waited. Impatiently, Justin supposed and that made him smile, imagining Gus standing in the doorway with his SpongeBob pull-along by him, Beh strapped to it, raring to go. Maybe having the toddler with them for the weekend would lighten the mood around the house. To be sure, it couldn't get much heavier without crushing them both.

Just as he'd imagined, Gus was waiting in the doorway when he arrived at Mel and Lindz's place. Spotting his daddy, the little boy ran to tell his mommies, hurrying back to the door before Justin could walk up to it, Lindsay with him. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open and Gus ran to meet Justin.

"Hey, Gus."

"Hey." Having received his hug and kiss, Gus got his pull-along and was ready to go but Lindsay stopped him, the look on Justin's face worrying her.

"I know just what you need: raspberry lemonade."

Justin chuckled because they both knew that wasn't what he needed. But he accepted the offer and came inside for a glass. And a talk.

Wanting to see Brian and Leo, Gus fussed a little but settled down when the grownups told him he could stay at his daddies' house until Monday morning.

"I don't have to ask how you are. Or Brian. I can see it in your face."

"We'll be okay," he said softly, afraid that the floodgates would open and he'd end up crying at her dining table.

"Sure?"

At that, he shook his head, already feeling the tears.

"Justin, you'll get through this."

Wiping his face, he said, "I just keep thinking, what's next?"

"Maybe nothing. Maybe you'll live happily ever after," she suggested and he laughed.

"As Ted says, possible, just not probable."

Having seen Justin crying, Gus came over and patted his leg to be lifted up onto his lap. Then the little boy touched his face. "You sad, Daddy?"

"Just a little."

Gus kissed him the way they did him when he had boo-boos. "Daddy feel better?"

Smiling, Justin hugged him. "Much better."

But that feeling left him upon finding Brian at home when they got there. It was obvious that Brian had had a rough day. He was stretched out on the chaise lounge in his office, eyes shut, desperately trying to relax but his muscles were locked and he couldn't.

"Brian?"

"Give me a minute," he said.

"Gus is here."

Brian inhaled deeply and swung his legs off the chaise. That was as far as he got though.

"Bri, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing that you can do anything about." He stood and took off his suit jacket, and headed across the hall to the closet to change.

As he passed him, Justin caught his arm. "I love you."

"I know." Bending his head, Brian kissed him. Just then Gus came running in, having finished stowing his stuff, which meant taking Beh off the pull-along before tossing it into the closet, still packed. Justin's son.

"Daddy!"

"Hey, Sonny Boy."

"Daddy, look."

"What?"

"One, two, three, four…" the toddler was counting his fingers.

"That's very good."

Justin watched him put away his sadness to play with Gus and that made his heart ache even more. There had to be some way to help Brian. He just had to try harder.

Later that evening, as Gus and Leo romped in the conservatory, Justin and Brian were afforded a quiet moment to talk in the kitchen while they fixed dinner.

"Something happen today?"

Brian chopped the veggies and pepperoni that would go on their pizza while Justin kneaded the dough. His movements were sharp, controlled, no motion wasted as he sliced green peppers and onions. Without taking his eyes from the cutting board, he said, "The ad campaign we did for Hyperion is up for an award."

He started to congratulate him, then realized the implications. Brian had come up with that ad campaign and then he'd had to watch Ryder run with it after the fiasco in Birmingham, a debacle that had turned out to be much more than just poor judgement on his part. "Did you tell Ryder about what happened?"

"It's nobody's business but mine." Then, realizing that his reply had been as sharp as the blade on the knife he was using, he tempered it. "It's hard enough going in and trying to work as is. If they knew… Justin… I couldn't do it."

"Then you don't have to."

Only one mushroom remained. He began slicing it and paused. "I just wish this could be over and done with. But I know it's not. There's always one final kick in the ass just waiting around the corner."

Remembering Lindsay's words, Justin said, "Maybe not this time. Maybe this is it."

Smiling, Brian shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Almost instantly, a flirtatious retort rose to Justin's lips and died there. Brian had to be the one to make the first move and only when he was ready to do so.

That he wasn't ready was made painfully obvious to Justin that evening. With Gus tucked away, Brian retired early. To sleep. Taking two of his pills, Brian turned the television down low and closed his eyes.

"Tired?" Justin asked.

"Exhausted."

Making as if to leave the bed, Justin said, "I'll go downstairs then."

Brian reached for his hand. "Don't leave me."

So he stayed with Brian, arm wrapped around his waist. He could feel Brian's heart beating, rapidly at first, then gradually slowing under the influence of the sleeping pills. When he finally went under, Justin released him and sat up in bed, frustrated and lonely. 

 

The next day passed without incident. Brian and Justin took Gus out on a tour of the neighborhood on his tricycle; dropped by Nana Jenn's for lunch so that she could see Gus since it had been a while; and barbecued in the courtyard. By the time Gus' bath rolled around, they were all tired. However, playing in the tub always invigorated the toddler and he quickly found the energy to splash both his daddies and the floor.

"Told you we should have gotten in with him," Justin said as they mopped up.

"Wasn't in the mood," Brian replied, which had been his answer when Justin had first suggested they join Gus.

Somehow they got Gus dried off and his pajamas on and settled in for a leisurely evening since the little boy wouldn't hear of going to bed just yet. He climbed into bed with them and watched Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, undoubtedly a first for their upstairs DVD player. Gus, however, fell asleep halfway through the film so they bundled him off to bed and decided to finish the movie the next day.

Returning to their suite, Brian paused at the door. Justin was but a few steps behind him.

"What's wrong?"

He touched the doorframe lightly. "This. This is wrong."

"What?"

"Us. Like this. It's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"I want you," Brian said and his voice broke a little. Justin, taking a chance, closed the distance between them, laid a hand upon his shoulder. Brian turned and brushed his lips over Justin's. "Make love to me."

Justin cupped his face. "You sure?"

"I need you to touch me," he whispered and he kissed Justin again, less tentatively.

 _Baby, it was meant to be_  
For you and me  
For us the stars aligned 2

For the first time in weeks, they helped one another undress, touching flesh that had become forbidden, now accessible again. Justin slid Brian's shirt from his shoulders, then covered his nipples with his palms. Brian took a sharp breath, then slowly released it as Justin stroked his chest and belly. His hands felt so good on Brian's skin that the man sighed and put his own over Justin's to keep them in place. He trembled a little. It had been so long. That a man who had slept with thousands of men would be nervous about being with any one man bespoke both the depth of hurt he'd suffered and the depth of love he had for his partner.

Freeing his hands, Justin ran them over Brian's back, soothing him with slow, easy strokes. He kissed his shoulders and felt Brian's skin ripple. Kissed his arm down to his fingertips. "I love you," he said around Brian's forefinger before turning to his chest again, kissing above his heart, along his neck as far as he could reach.

_There's nowhere else I'd rather be_  
Than tenderly  
Holding you close by 

They laid down together on their bed and Justin could feel Brian shivering in his arms. He had to take things slow even though he wanted to be inside Brian so badly. Brian needed him to be gentle and he would be. "I want to make love to you." Unhurriedly, he unbuttoned and unzipped Brian's jeans and worked them over his hips, down his legs, and around his ankles, giving him the opportunity to take hold of Brian's feet. Brian had the most beautiful feet. Bending over, he kissed the tops of them. He kissed Brian's ankles. Parted his legs and kissed up from his calves to the insides of his thighs.

Brian shut his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He'd been afraid that things would have changed between them, that he wouldn't be able to forget about Kenneth, that Kenneth had numbed him. But he hadn't destroyed anything. Brian could hardly catch his breath he was so aroused, and just from Justin kissing him. Justin kissed his belly, kissed around his navel and he raised up as he took a deep breath.

"Bri?" Justin asked, alarmed and afraid that he'd done something wrong.

Brian pulled him up. "I love you," he whispered between kisses. "I love you."

"I love you."

"Make love to me."

"I have been. You just haven't been paying attention."

Brian laughed. He'd told Justin the very same thing the first time they'd made love. He remembered how long it'd taken him to gather up the courage to make love to Justin, afraid that he would hurt him, that he wasn't good enough for him, that he would fuck things up. Yet here they were, years later, together, married.

_Baby, I look after you_  
Take care of you  
Cause time is on our side  
And no one could  
Make me believe  
But with you I feel God 

Taking the initiative, Justin kissed Brian once more and eased his hand between his husband's thighs, caught hold of his penis; it had plumped and filled his hand easily. He'd bypassed it on his journey up from Brian's feet and he intended to redress his omission.

The moment Justin's lips touched the head of his dick, Brian covered his eyes with his arm. He couldn't look. If he looked he'd lose it and he wanted this to last a long time. Each time Justin's lips encircled the tip of his cockhead, he caught his breath. Up and down Justin traveled, coating his shaft with saliva until he was slick.

Holding Brian's cock up by the base, Justin regarded it, mouth open as if he were hungry for it and he was. He licked the head, savoring the flavor of Brian's skin. Licked it again and again, over and over until a bead of clear liquid appeared. Closing his lips about it, he lapped the precum up and sucked the head, hoping to coax more from the slit.

"Ah!" cried Brian and he arched his back, forcing his cock deeper inside Justin's mouth. His lover took that as a sign to kick things up a notch and went back to blowing him in earnest, traveling from tip to base, lips firm around his girth, tongue probing each crevice, each slit, each bump. And Brian continued to stiffen, continued to cry out.

Justin released him, wanting his balls now. He stuffed his mouth and sucked each testicle in its tightening sac, jacking Brian's dick as he fed on him.

His legs fell open even wider and he tingled all over, especially between his cheeks. Justin hadn't touched him there and he wanted to be touched there, wanted to feel Justin's fingers inside him, his tongue, his cock.

Letting go of Brian's sac, Justin raised one of his legs and licked the back of his thigh. Licked down from behind his knee to the crease between his leg and groin. He kissed down Brian's shaft and around his balls, then along his perineum to his hole. His tongue lashed the wrinkled opening and Brian moaned.

"Oh, God…" He grabbed his legs beneath his knees and held them up and open while Justin rimmed him. He could feel Justin's breath on his flesh as he kissed him down there, feel his tongue searching among the folds of his ass for entrance into his hole. The sensation was driving him crazy and he didn't think he was too far off from begging Justin to fuck him.

How long had it been since he'd listened to him groaning above him? Pressing on either side of his anus, Justin held him open and worked his ass over until Brian began to cry out through clenched teeth. And after the tongue came the fingers, one at a time, opening him up, stretching the entrance, preparing him for Justin's cock. Justin latched onto his dick once more, sucking him as he fingered his ass.

Justin's finger must have brushed against his prostate because suddenly stars exploded behind his eyelids and Brian grunted and came. He hadn't intended to but it'd been too long and it felt so good, Justin's mouth on him, fingers in him. He arched his back and came in his husband's mouth. "I'm sorry," he panted.

Taking his fingers out of Brian's hole, and licking a bit of cum from his lips, Justin asked, "Why? I intend for you to come at least three or four times tonight." He knelt between Brian's legs, his cock proudly erect, the tip wet and shiny with precum. He jacked it a couple of times, then reached for the lube on the bedside table. Holding his cock by the base, he squeezed lube all along the shaft, then slowly spread it. When he was done, he raised Brian's legs to his shoulders and positioned his cock. "Open wide," he said and the words made Brian's stomach flutter.

"Ah… ah," Brian stuttered and he inhaled as Justin pushed inside him, pushed up him, filling him, healing him. He felt his lover's scrotum press against his ass and smiled.

"Feel good?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Justin withdrew until only the tip remained, then he reversed directions and entered him again just as leisurely. Continued in that manner until Brian had loosened up a bit.

He could feel his asshole give, accustom itself to the thickness of Justin's cock once more. Feel it cling to Justin's dick, drawing it inside, wanting to keep it inside, resisting Justin's retreats. He knew that the entrance was swelling, reddening like a pair of lips and, like a pair of lips, tightening around Justin's shaft each time he tried to withdraw. Chest and neck red, Brian felt as if he were on fire. But God, it felt so good. So good.

Leaning over, Justin supported himself on one arm that was planted in the middle of Brian's chest. He held onto one of Brian's legs with the other arm and pumped his ass until Brian screwed up his face.

"Fuck me. Fuck me."

Justin increased the pace.

"Christ."

He plowed his ass, hips moving in a blur as he drove his dick into him.

Brian's cock twitched on his belly. It was hard again and drooling and he hadn't even touched It. Just being fucked by Justin was enough. He didn't know how much longer he could keep it together. He could feel the cum churning in his balls. Each time Justin's cockhead raked against his prostate, he hissed. Curling his head into his chest, he grunted, tensing against the desire to come. And then Justin hit his spot again and he shouted and came.

Brian's asshole was tight around his cock, massaging it in waves as it spasmed in response to Brian's orgasm. Throwing back his head, he let loose a low, ragged cry and ejaculated against Brian's prostate. Each time the tender opening brushed the hard organ, cum surged from the tip. When he was done, he kissed Brian's leg which he still held in his arm. Withdrawing when he was able, he laid down upon his lover, his smooth belly against Brian's cum-stained one.

_Bashert means you're my man to be_  
You were made for me  
I know this deep inside 

Almost everything was set for Brian's birthday party that Saturday. Despite the fact that his actual birthday wasn't until the following Monday, they'd decided to have the party the weekend prior to the big day. The day itself, they planned on having an intimate dinner for two. Besides, if they had it on Saturday, everyone could party as much as they liked and then sleep it off the next day before heading to work on Monday. And it'd give the hosts a chance to decompress and to clean up the house leisurely.

There were, however, a few items still on the "To Do" list. Topmost on that list was what to get Brian for a birthday present. He'd sworn, as always, not to want anything but Justin was bound and determined not to accept that as an answer this year. Especially since Brian had given him such a fabulous anniversary present. He loved the conservatory and he wanted to give Brian something just as special. Only he didn't know what.

Brian was doing KP duty tonight and was busy making a marinade for the chicken he intended to grill. Sauntering in, list in hand, Justin leaned on the island countertop and watched his husband squeeze lime juice into a bowl. "So…"

"So?" Arched brow.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"Peace and quiet."

"Funny." Justin grew desperate. "Brian."

"I don't want—"

"I don't want to hear that. Tell me what you want."

"Anything?"

"Within reason. I'm not made of money, you know." It shamed him to have to say so but he didn't have unlimited funds and he refused to use their joint account to pay for Brian's present. He'd pay for it out of his wages at work.

"Okay. For my birthday… I'd really like it if you'd believe me when I say I don't want anything."

"No fair!"

Smirking, Brian tossed a chopped jalapeno into the marinade. "That's what I want. And you said anything."

"Ooo," grumbled Justin. "Fine. I won't say another word about it."

"What a wonderful present."

"Asshole."

Brian laughed and finished the marinade and poured it over the dish of chicken breasts to sit in the fridge while he fired up the grill top on the stove.

Cocking his head, Justin asked, "Was that the door?"

"Might have been."

With round three having gone to Brian (as had the two previous rounds in the Great Birthday Present Bout), Justin went to check the door.

Watching him go, Brian shook his head. He had everything he wanted and if he needed something, he'd just go out and get it. For some reason, Justin couldn't accept that. He supposed his presents to Justin maybe made the young man feel obligated to reciprocate in some grand manner, if not on the same scale. Maybe he ought not to give Justin such extravagant gifts but he could afford them and he loved him. The money didn't matter. He frowned. Maybe Justin felt the same way about him. Turning the grill down low, he went in search of his spouse and hoped he could think of something he wanted for his birthday before he found him.

He was halfway through the family room when he heard Justin say, "You've got some fuckin' nerve. Get out! Get the fuck out of our house!" Quickening his pace, he entered the reception hall and stopped in his tracks.

Kenneth stood just inside the threshold. When he saw Brian, he attempted to come further into the house but Justin barred his way.

Despite a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Brian started forward again, pausing just behind Justin. He searched for his voice and found it crouched somewhere inside him. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Why didn't you talk to him the night you raped him?" Justin asked, moving to block Kenneth's way again as he'd tried to come in once more.

Ignoring Justin, Kenneth appealed to Brian directly. "Please, Brian, I just want to talk to you. Just for a moment."

Although he knew there was nothing Kenneth could say to make up for what he had done, Brian granted him the opportunity to speak. Moving away from the door, putting space between him and Kenneth, Brian said, "You've got five minutes."

"Brian?" Justin turned and searched his face. "You don't have to talk to him."

"It's okay."

Justin relented and let Kenneth in, then moved to Brian's side. "The clock's ticking."

"Brian… I'm sorry." Harris looked away from them momentarily but, to his credit, faced them again. "I know that I hurt you and I'm sorry. I was wrong and I know that there's nothing I can ever say or do to make things right between us but, Brian… Brian… I love you so much…"

"Love?" The word erupted from Brian's lips as if it had found its own way out. "Love me?" He shook his head. "You don't love me. You never loved me. I was never more than a possession to you, a prize, a new acquisition. Like your house, and your cars, your business. You don't know the meaning of love."

"That isn't true. I love you."

"Do you even realize what you've done? Do you? You drugged me. You raped me. And then you lied to me. For almost a year, you lied to me." Brian took a deep breath and Justin moved closer to him, to offer support if he needed it. "I asked you, Kenneth, every time we talked, I begged you to tell me what happened, to tell me the truth. And you lied. Every single time, you lied to me. You knew how important my marriage was to me, you knew how guilty I felt, thinking I had slept with you by choice. You knew that. And still you lied. You don't love me. If you loved me, you wouldn't have lied to me. Loving someone means putting their needs before yours." How long had it taken him to come around to that way of thinking? "If you loved me, you would have known that being with Justin makes me happy, it's what I need. You would have let me have that life. But, instead, you tried to take it away. Well, you didn't. We're still together, we're still in love, and you're still alone. And you will always be alone because you don't know how to love anyone because you never give anything. You only know how to take!"

Kenneth disputed Brian's interpretations of events. "You wanted me. Every time I used to see you on business, I could tell: you wanted me, you just didn't have the balls to admit it, to go after what you wanted. Which was ironic considering how you never seemed to back down from anything, how you always went after what you wanted. But I guess, just this once, you didn't have the guts."

Brian wished he could escape Kenneth's words but he had nowhere to run because the words were inside him now, echoing in his head. You wanted me…

"So I helped you. I gave you a way out. I gave you something to help you relax, to forget you had a partner back home. And you did. For a few hours, you forgot about Justin. You forgot about everything except me. All you wanted was me."

"Liar!"

"You loved me! Even if it didn't last, even if you couldn't remember in the morning, it was worth it, just to touch you, to make love to you, to hear you say that you loved me."

Brian fixed his gaze on Kenneth. Water wet his face where a tear had fallen despite his wishes. "I hate you."

Harris seemed to shrink in upon himself. "Brian, don't sa—"

"I hate you."

"I don't hate you," Kenneth said. Tears ran down his face. "I love you. I've always loved you. And I tried so hard, Brian, I tried so hard to leave you alone… To stay away from you, to let you live your life… but I wanted you too much. And I'm sorry. I thought… I thought you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Maybe I lied to myself about that. But I didn't lie to you, Brian. Not about loving you. I do know what love is and I've felt it for you." As he spoke, he moved closer to Brian, unconsciously, as if he were connected to him by an invisible rope that was being wound about a wheel, drawing him closer and closer. "I still do." He wiped his face. "I could have had any man I wanted… but I wanted you. I would give anything, everything for you," he confessed, letting Brian hear the naked truth in his voice.

"Your five minutes are up," Justin told him and he went to the door and held it open, expression set in granite. "Please leave our home."

Imploring Brian with his eyes to say something, Kenneth waited for him to intervene. Brian had to feel something for him, he couldn't have been that wrong, that misguided… Desperately he asked, "Why couldn't you have said that you loved me, even the slightest bit, just once?" When Brian continued to say nothing, Kenneth muttered softly, "I'm sorry," and left.

Justin shut the door and locked it, as if afraid Kenneth would return. He stood with his back to Brian for some time, not wanting to face him again, to see the tears that he'd shed for Kenneth. But he didn't have to worry because Brian had already headed for the kitchen.

He told himself it was to check the grill but he knew the truth: it was to escape Justin's eyes. Eyes that would see how shaken he was by Kenneth's visit. I thought I remembered him holding me down. I thought… Brian turned off the grill, certain that neither one of them would have any kind of appetite after this. He didn't hear Justin come into the kitchen, stand by the la mattina.

"So what's it gonna be?"

Brian didn't turn around. "What do you mean?"

"You gonna talk to me or are you gonna go hole up in your study and pretend nothing's wrong?"

"There's a lot wrong," Brian confessed. "I think… I think he's right," he admitted, wiping the corner of his eye with the pad of his finger.

"He's not right," Justin assured him as he came up to stand next to him. Gently gripped his arm. "He raped you. I don't care if the drug he gave you had you begging him to fuck you, he took away your right to say, 'No,' and we all know that's exactly what you would have said if you'd had the chance. But he didn't give you any choice." Justin wiped away any remaining tears from Brian's face. "So fuck him."

Saying nothing, Brian embraced him and held onto him. But he couldn't forget Kenneth and that night, as Justin slept, he laid awake going over memories in his mind, wondering if he could trust any of them. 

 

With no preamble, Brian walked into Drew's office and said, "I want you to put me under."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of not knowing what the fuck happened to me." Last night had been a nightmare.

Drew put aside his notebook. "I thought you said you did remember."

"Kenneth paid me a visit yesterday."

"And…?"

"And things don't match up."

"Maybe he's lying."

"Maybe." But he was afraid that the man hadn't been lying.

"There's no guarantee you'll remember anything. We've tried it before and you couldn't." At least three times he'd put Brian under with no results.

"Let's try again."

"Brian…" Who was he to say no? "Fine. We'll try again."

As usual, putting Brian under went without a hitch. The man sat in his favorite chair, eyes closed, relaxed and awaiting instructions.

"I want you to go back to the party at Kenneth's house. Last year. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"Did you have a good time at the party?"

"Yeah." Small smile.

"Why's that?"

"I was the best dancer there."

Drew almost laughed cause Brian was a notoriously slack dancer. When you were beautiful, obviously, you didn't have to work too hard to attract attention and Brian hadn't bothered to develop any moves beyond the basics—when it came to dancing. His lovemaking skills, however, were prodigious and legendary. "Were you high?" the therapist asked.

"I had a few drinks." Then added, "And a few more. And a few more…" Laughed lazily. "Justin would not have approved." His face darkened.

"What is it?"

"I danced with Kenneth. He's a good dancer. Light on my feet." But the joke failed to keep a smile on his face.

"After you danced with Kenneth, what happened?"

He seemed to struggle with his next words. "Everyone else went home."

"Why?"

"So we could fuck." The words seemed to surround them.

"Did you want to fuck Kenneth?"

Brian hesitated. "Yes." No way to hide the need.

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

A crease appeared between his brows. "I felt… it was great."

"How did it make you feel?" Drew persisted with his question.

"I felt good."

"You liked having sex with Kenneth?"

"Yeah." His jaw trembled.

Maybe it was better not to delve too deeply into the details. Maybe it was best to move on. "What's the next thing you remember?"

He gripped the arms of the chair. "Waking up the next day."

Not wanting to go through that episode again, Drew brought him out of the trance. Brian blinked rapidly and pinched his brow.

"He didn’t force me."

"You don't remember everything that happened that night. There's still hours unaccounted for."

"Why couldn't I remember this before?" Drew hadn't even broken a sweat getting him to unearth the details of that night this time around.

"The mind's a tricky thing. Always trying to protect itself. Protect you the best way it knows. Maybe you weren't ready to know the truth."

Angry, he said, "That I didn't struggle. That I gave it up like some bitch in heat."

"That you were drugged," Drew pointed out. "Brian, he could have had you do whatever he wanted. We don't know what was in that drug. Be glad that you didn't struggle. You might have been hurt. Things could have been a lot worse."

"Yeah," he conceded, although he had a hard time imagining how. 

 

So the freeloaders were coming over this afternoon to help 'celebrate' his birthday by eating his food and drinking his liquor. Jeez, how'd he get so lucky? He knew exactly how he'd gotten so lucky: Justin. You would have thought he was the birthday boy, he was so excited about today's festivities. Unfortunately, the guest of honor was anything but excited. He didn't feel like partying today. What he felt like doing was crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over his head and forgetting the world existed. Kenneth's visit earlier in the week—and the session with Drew—had left a definite bad taste in his mouth and he hadn't been able to rinse it away. For the past couple days he'd had to go to work and pretend to be fine when he hadn't been and if there had been any fairness in the world, he would have been able to spend today in peace and quiet. Instead, he was anticipating a horde of well-wishers. He supposed that was probably better than the day he would have spent brooding.

Justin came bustling into the family room and found him sitting alone at the table, staring out at the back yard. "Bri?"

"Yeah?" He turned. "You want me to do something?"

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Repeated himself, "You want me to do anything?"

"No." Justin frowned. He knew when he was being put off but there was nothing he could do. "Brian… do you want me to call off the party?"

Yes, he wanted to say but he knew how much this party meant to Justin and he would make it through the day and smile at all the right places, and laugh at Michael's goofy jokes, and play hide-and-seek with Gus, and dance with Justin. He would do all those things and more because Justin asked so little of him and put up with so much, the least he could do was to enjoy his own fuckin' birthday party. "No, I don't want you to call it off."

"Then what's wrong?"

He shrugged. "I was just sitting here, that's all."

Kissing him, Justin went on his way, taking care of last minute details for the party. Maybe all Brian needed was to be left alone for a while. No problem. He had enough to do to keep him busy all morning.

He'd lost interest in the view now that his thoughts had been interrupted. With hours to go before the party, he decided to go for a run to clear his mind. As the weather was nice, he changed into his sweats and put on a tank top. Dropped by the kitchen to let Justin know he was going and then jogged down the driveway.

As the sound of Brian's footsteps faded, Justin hoped he'd find whatever it was he was looking for. He'd been restless last night and this morning a dark cloud had descended upon him from which he'd been unable to escape. That he'd found Brian sitting alone and staring at nothing had not surprised him. Justin checked his list again to make certain he had everything and then went into the family room to take a breather. Coming from wherever he'd been napping, Leo hopped up next to him and meowed softly. "He's gone," Justin told the cat. "I miss him too." He stroked the kitten's fur. "He'll be back soon."

Soon turned out to be an hour later. Sweaty and exhausted, Brian pushed through the side door and sat down on the back stairs. Shook his hair.

Having listened for him for the past ten minutes, Justin appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Brian's skin glowed and his muscles were hard. Moving closer, Justin ran his hand over his partner's arm. Smiled with a bedroom suggestion in his eyes and mouth, his tongue issuing an invitation from between his lips. Despite being tired, Brian accepted and fairly ran up the stairs with Justin behind him. 

 

Justin woke and snuggled up to Brian's side, intending to spend no few minutes basking in his warmth, when he glimpsed the alarm clock. "Shit!"

"What?" Brian asked sleepily, having awakened when Justin had.

"We've got half an hour before they're supposed to be here," he explained as he jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

Brian sighed and threw back the covers. Here we go…

Showers out of the way, the two hosts dressed in record time and raced downstairs to begin preparing for the party. Luckily, there were no decorations to hang or balloons to blow up but they did have to set up the plates and glasses and silverware on top of the table in the family room and put out the munchies and drinks that would tide people over until the real food was ready. As they'd done at the Fourth of July barbecue, the gang was bringing sides and they were providing the meat.

"How are Rennie and Xavier getting over here?" Brian asked.

Justin paused for a moment, shocked that he'd even care. "Mace is picking them up." They'd gotten Keisha to agree to come and to bring Cecil.

"Cool."

"Dr. Drew say if he was coming?"

"Not. He said he thinks it's best if we don't transgress the patient/friend boundary too often."

"Too bad. He's the only person who dances worse than you."

Brian stuck out his tongue.

"So mature. And we are how old?"

"Thirty-two." He grabbed Justin by the waist and held onto him as he mock struggled. "Want to make something of it?"

Justin kissed him hard. "After they leave."

Growling deep in his throat, Brian let him go. "They gotta be gone by six then. So we can play all evening," he added.

"Fine by me."

Fifteen minutes later, just as they'd emptied the last bag of chips into a bowl and set out the dip, the doorbell rang. Brian grabbed hold of the back of Justin's shirt as he started from the room and pulled him back for a gentle kiss. They were both smiling as they answered the door.

"Happy Birthday!" yelled Mikey and Em while Ted mumbled. The three pushed past their hosts and headed for the family room with their presents and the food they'd brought.

"I told you they've done it today," Ted told the other two, having seen the smiles on Brian and Justin's faces.

"It's twelve thirty, of course, they've done it today," replied Em. "Knowing them, they've done it twice already."

"Does after midnight count as today?" asked Justin. Em nodded. Justin held up four fingers.

"Four times?" Ted asked incredulously. "When do you sleep?"

"When we're done fucking," Brian answered quite reasonably.

Mikey gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy Birthday."

"Yeah, Happy thirty-fuckin-third birthday. Yippee," he groused, fooling no one. "Where's Jeff?"

"Working."

Brian waited for the gripe.

"He's always working."

"Well, he wants to get ahead."

"Well, I'd like to get some head."

Brian laughed and Justin smiled. Maybe this was just what he'd needed. 

 

By mid-afternoon, once all their guests had arrived and eaten and were hanging out dancing, talking, laughing, and playing, Justin knew he'd been right to have a party. Everyone commented on how much Brian seemed to be enjoying himself. It was as if he'd shaken off Kenneth's visit and everything associated with the man. He danced with Keisha, played tag with Gus and Molly, told stories about when he and Mikey were kids, flirted with Rennie, dodged Deb's hand, and stole kisses from his husband whenever they found themselves in reach of one another.

Someone had put in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers and Molly and the college students sat on the couch in awe all over again as they'd all seen it numerous times. Gus wasn't really interested in it so he and Brian went upstairs and watched Toy Story which was still one of his favorite movies. He loved Buzz Lightyear and even had a Buzz toy that shouted, "To infinity and beyond!" at the press of a button. Of course, he yelled, "To infinity and beyond!" as well, infinitely annoying his parents after the first or second time.

Although Gus never tired of watching the film, Brian found his mind wandering. It was only when Buzz discovered that he was only a toy and not a hero, that he began to pay attention again.

 _All the things I thought I'd be_  
All the brave things I'd done  
Vanished like a snowflake  
With the rising of the sun  
Never more to sail my ship  
Where no man has gone before  
And I will go sailing no more 3

Watching the toy tap into his last reserve of hope, believing he could fly, only to plummet to earth.

_Clearly I will go sailing, no more_

He felt a tear prickling at the corner of his eye, blinked rapidly and wished it away. Even Gus was sad, crawling back to the head of the bed to curl up next to his daddy.

Kenneth's words came back to him: _"You wanted me. Every time I used to see you on business, I could tell, you wanted me, you just didn't have the balls to admit it, to go after what you wanted."_ He'd wanted to believe that he hadn't wanted Kenneth but he had. He hadn't fought him, he'd responded to Kenneth just the way Kenneth had wanted him to. He'd remembered, at least, under hypnosis. And hadn't told Justin. Didn't know how.

 _You loved Kenneth,_ he told himself but before he could descend into despair, Gus started giggling.

Buzz was getting drunk on tea and wearing a doll's hat on top of his space helmet. Gus always laughed himself silly at this part. He pointed. "Look at his hat," he said and Brian did and laughed too. Woody and Buzz would find a way out of Sid's house and everyone would be where they belonged, be who they were supposed to be. The heroes always triumphed. That was the Disney promise. Brian wished life in general had a promise like that. He could use a happy ending. 

 

It was way after six before the last of the guests left; as expected, the Munchers and Gus were the last to go. The women had a hard time convincing him that they meant business when they said he couldn't stay the weekend with Brian and Justin. Finally, he accepted their decision but he wasn't graceful about it. Finding Beh, he stormed ahead of them from the house and got into his car seat without saying a word to either of his mommies.

"Your son," Melanie told Brian as if there was any doubt whose temper the tot had inherited along with his red lips and hazel eyes.

The two men waved to the toddler as Lindsay pulled out of the yard. At the last moment, Gus looked back through the rear window and waved. They waited until the car was gone before closing the door and going inside.

Brian sat on the stairs and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Glad that's over."

"You had a good time," Justin told him, taking a seat next to him and taking over the unbuttoning.

"I had a great time," Brian said and kissed him along his jaw.

"Clean-up tomorrow?" asked Justin, nuzzling his neck.

"Uh-huh." As good as what Justin was doing felt, Brian pulled away slightly.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

"Finally?" Justin stood and held out his hand and Brian was reminded of the night Gus had been born. He'd stood on that ledge and reached down to Mikey. He took Justin's hand and followed him to their suite. Settled down on their bed. "So?"

"Dr. Drew put me under the last time I saw him."

"You remembered something about that night?" In the past, the therapist's efforts to uncover the details of that night had failed.

"I remembered what really happened," he said softly.

"Bri…"

"He did drug me. But I didn't fight him. He didn't lie about that part." His face burned.

"That doesn’t matter. He raped you, no matter the details. And I can't ever forget that. Or forgive it."

"What about me?"

"Maybe you can forgive him—"

"Can you forgive me?"

"For what?" When Brian made as if to leave the bed, Justin caught his arm. "There's nothing to forgive." He began to stroke Brian's arm, hand moving in a lazy circle. Smiled to match. Reached for one half of Brian's shirt and drew it over his shoulders. "Now, wasn't there something important we were supposed to be doing?"

Brian laughed and took Justin down as he fell back onto the comforter. 

 

He couldn't believe it was his fuckin' birthday and he was stuck at the office. Even more miraculously, he couldn't believe he actually cared. In the past, his birthday had been just another day to avoid. Who needed a once yearly reminder that you were getting older? Well, he turned thirty-three today and he couldn’t have been happier. He'd awakened to breakfast in bed, served by his very naked and very aroused spouse who'd proceeded to feed him a high protein meal. Smirking as he remembered going down on Justin, he heard the door open and assumed it was Cynthia coming to tell him something she deemed important but that would probably turn out not to be. "Yeah?" he said as he looked up. It wasn't Cynthia. "Get out." It was Kenneth. He stood, saying, "Get the fuck out of my—" His words died in his throat. Kenneth had drawn a gun from his jacket. He wasn't an expert on guns, couldn't tell one from the other, but he knew enough to guess that this one would do major damage to him if fired in his direction. "Kenneth… Kenneth, please… Please, Kenneth…"

Eyes cloudy, Harris said, "I would never hurt you," and he turned the gun on himself.

"No! Kenneth, no!" The gun went off and Brian shut his eyes. But it was too late. He'd seen. "No!" he yelled helplessly, eyes burning from being squeezed shut so tightly. "No!" The words wouldn't stop.

Cynthia came running, stopped abruptly when she saw the body on the floor, blood splattered on the rug. Staggering back, she threw up.

Falling against his desk, Brian wished the world away. 

 

Justin went running down the hallway as soon as he got off the elevator. Ran towards the knot of people outside Brian's office. "Where is he?" Someone pointed down towards the other executive suites. Ryder's office was down that way. He rushed to it and found Marty sitting with Brian. "Brian?" Justin went to him, grabbed his hand, touched his face; he was so cold. "Are you all right?"

Brian turned and his eyes were dark as night. "Today's my birthday," he said softly.

Justin looked over at Ryder.

"They've taken his statement. He'll have to go down to the station tomorrow to sign it but you can take him home now." Marty trembled and shaded his brow momentarily. "My God, Justin… My God." He swallowed, pushed down his horror. "Get him out of here."

"Brian, come on. We're going home."

Offering no resistance, he stood and followed Justin down the hallway to the elevator. For a second, Justin thought he'd want to go into his office but he didn't show any interest in the hubbub. It was almost as if he didn't see it at all. After a while, Justin wondered if he was seeing anything. He moved like a blind man, relying on Justin's guidance, letting Justin take him to the Cherokee and open the door, buckle his seatbelt once he'd gotten in himself, all without saying a word, without any change in expression.

"Brian…?"

He swiveled his head but still didn't focus on Justin. Whatever he saw, it was not in the car, not in the parking garage. Justin suspected it was back in his office. Bloody carpet and a cold body—

"Christ—" he whispered, choking back the rest. Brian didn't need him to fall apart too. He had to be strong for him. Starting the engine, he headed home.

Just as he'd done at the office, Brian mutely followed Justin into the house and sat where he was directed.

"Brian?" Beginning to panic, Justin cupped his face, stared into his eyes. "Brian, please…" But there was no response. "Brian, please, say something."

His eyes widened and, for a second, he was like a wild animal, terrified, then he closed his eyes and shivered.

"Brian, do you know what happened?"

He opened his eyes once more and when he did, they were blank, empty. "I'm tired."

Justin sniffled and nodded. "Okay, lie down." Once Brian had lain down, he pulled a throw down upon him. Almost immediately, Brian shut his eyes. Watching him, Justin went out into the reception area and took out his cell. Dialed. Waited. When his party answered, he said, "Dr. Drew, you have to come. Right now."

After securing Drew's promise that he would be there as soon as he could, Justin returned to the family room to wait. Brian still lay with his eyes closed as if he were asleep but Justin knew he couldn't be. Brian never fell asleep that quickly without the aid of drugs. Justin sat in the chenille armchair and watched over him. No matter what, they would weather this storm as well.

It seemed to take forever for Drew to arrive even though, in reality, he was at the house within a half hour. Justin met him at the door with tears in his eyes. "I don't know… what…"

"It's all right."

"Did you hear yet?"

"It was on the radio, that there was a shooting. No details yet."

Justin gestured past the fountain. "He's in there."

"Has he said anything?"

"Not about…" Justin grimaced. "He just… He seems so lost."

Drew nodded.

He'd heard voices, they'd penetrated the thick fog swirling around him. But just barely. Very little got through. Sometimes impressions of faces, light, sounds. Everything filtered through a red haze. A mist. A spray. No! He jerked, tried to shut his eyes even tighter but couldn't. Never could he shut his eyes fast enough to keep from seeing. Sitting up, he covered his face.

"Brian?"

"I saw…"

Drew sat next to him. "What did you see?" Justin perched on the edge of the chenille chair.

"I saw…" He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head, clear his vision.

"What?"

No, he couldn't look, not dead on, even though it flickered at the edge of his sight, he could not look at it directly. Not again. "Nothing," he said in a leaden voice.

"Brian—"

"Leave me alone." He rose but, once he was up, he realized he didn't know where he was going. Or, rather, he knew and he didn't want to go. All paths led back to his office, back to the horror that waited there.

He was getting through to him. That Brian responded directly to his questions, even to evade them, meant that he wasn't as far gone as Justin believed. Drew stood as well and faced him. "Where are you going?"

"No." Not back there, not… "There was so much blood."

"Whose blood?"

Brian shuddered and wrapped his arms around him to keep warm. "He… He had a gun. And…"

"And what, Brian?"

"And I don't want to see anymore," he replied and a tear rolled down his cheek. Followed by another. "I don't want to see anymore." So he closed his eyes and wept in Drew's arms. 

 

They had gone upstairs, Drew and Brian, the therapist supporting his patient as if he were just out of a coma and hadn't regained the full use of his legs yet. He could have gone with them but, truthfully, he hadn't wanted to. He needed a moment alone, a moment to sort out all the conflicting emotions that were tangled up inside him to see if there was anything he could craft from them, some strength, some purpose that would allow him to be what Brian needed. But he was so afraid that Brian's needs had surpassed his supply.

Just then the doorbell rang, a welcomed interruption even though he knew it'd be Mikey and the gang with questions, questions he didn't have the answers to. Flush with inadequacy, he answered the door. Deb rushed in, the others behind her. "Fuckin' reporters everywhere." There hadn't been when Drew had arrived. "Sunshine, are you okay?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded miles away. Jenn touched his arm.

Joanie looked around. "Where's Brian?"

"Upstairs. With Dr. Drew."

"Oh, God—"

"He's…"

"He all right?" asked Mikey.

Justin blinked back tears. "No. He's not." He stopped Michael before he could climb the stairs. "There's nothing you can do." Released his arm. "There's nothing any of us can do."

Mel, who was there with Lindsay, asked, "What happened?" He'd called them to let them know the bare bones of the situation before they saw it on the six o'clock news.

Nothing much had changed. The story was painfully simple. "Kenneth went to Brian's office and shot himself in the head." He turned to Michael. "Jeff covering the story?"

"No. He told them he wouldn't. He's not a complete asshole, Justin."

"I know he's not." Suddenly he had the urge to sit and he did, right on the steps of the stairwell.

Alarmed, Jennifer sat next to him. "Honey?"

He covered his face. "Mom…"

"I know. He'll be okay."

"We were supposed to celebrate his birthday tonight." And, although he'd promised himself that he wouldn't, he began to cry.

When Drew came down a while later, they'd all adjourned to the family room and Ted and Emmett were busy serving drinks to those who wanted them. Justin was seated by the fireplace, staring into the empty hearth. He turned when he heard Drew's footsteps, rose and went to him. "How is he?"

"Asleep. I gave him something. Should keep him out for, at least, eight hours. Maybe longer." He eyed all of the people in the room. "I won't lie to you, it's going to be rough. He's…" Drew paused, unable to explain the enormity of the problem.

Em filled the void with a drink. "You need it, Doc."

"Thanks." He sipped it then continued his briefing. "Coming so soon on the heels of finding out that Kenneth had raped him… he didn't have any defenses against this."

"How do you defend against watching someone blow their brains out?" asked Vic incredulously.

"I didn't mean that, I meant… there's so much more involved." He finished his drink.

"Another?" asked Em.

"Gotta drive home," he smiled. Then the smile faded. "It's going to take a lot of hard work on all of our parts." At the pained expression on Justin's face, he said, "But he will survive it. He's a strong man and he has a lot to live for. Everything to live for." Handing Em his glass, he said to Justin, "I'll be back tomorrow. Call me if you need me."

Justin walked him to the door. "Thanks, Dr. Drew."

"He loves you," Drew told him, "and, more than anything, he wants to come back to you. Give him time."

"Watch out for the reporters." With Drew gone, Justin returned to the family room and his family and friends, but what he wanted most was for everyone to leave so that he could sit upstairs next to Brian.

Lindsay, who had been relatively quiet up until that point, took hold of his arm and bussed his cheek. "Go on up, we'll be down here if you need us."

"Where's Gus?" He'd suddenly missed the little boy.

"Mel's aunt is babysitting."

Nodding, he left them and walked slowly upstairs for, as much as he wanted to be with Brian, he dreaded it as well. Dreaded that he would find Brian so changed as not to recognize him or, worse, changed just enough as to constantly remind him of the way he had been.

He was so pale, his salon tan leached away by the events of the day. He seemed smaller, almost childlike somehow, even though as a child he'd been tall. Yet it wasn't his size that made him seem so young, it was the nakedness of his face, how it showed pain even as he slept. Drew was right: he had no defenses against this.

Drawing an armchair up to the bed, Justin took his hand in his and held it while he slept.

Downstairs, their family and friends waited. They'd turned on the television to see if there was anything about the shooting on the news. They'd missed the first local news hour and so they watched the national news. It wasn't the top news story but it came early in the newscast.

A reporter stood in front of Hyperion's headquarters. "Kenneth Harris was the founder and CEO of Hyperion Biotechnics, a Fortune 500 biotechnology firm located in Birmingham, Alabama. Just this year, Hyperion released the drug Afibrinase which is quickly becoming the standard in the treatment of ischemic strokes. By all accounts, Harris was a man with everything to live for." A picture of Kenneth flashed on screen. "But this morning, Kenneth Harris boarded his private jet in Birmingham and flew to Pittsburgh where he committed suicide in the offices of Searle and Associates, the public relations firm whose services Hyperion had retained for their advertising campaigns." A shot of the building where the firm had its offices. "He walked into the office of one Brian Kinney, a partner in the firm, and shot himself point blank in the head with a small caliber handgun. What drove Harris, a successful businessman, to kill himself? And why in Pittsburgh? Although no official statement has been released by either the Pittsburgh Police Department or Searle and Associates, some employees at Hyperion Biotechnics have a theory."

A man whose body and face were in the shadows, spoke. His voice had been computer modified to avoid recognition. "Kenneth Harris was in love with Brian Kinney. Last year, Kinney came to a party the company held at Harris' home and we could all tell that Kenneth was crazy about him. We all knew he was gay, it wasn't a big deal."

Another person, a woman this time. "Mr. Kinney was very handsome, very charming…" a picture of Brian, "everyone liked him. He was smart and very good at his job. He was just the kind of person Mr. Harris would have fallen for."

"Unfortunately," the reporter continued, "Brian Kinney was not available." There was a shot of the tree-lined fence outside the house. "According to sources, he lives here, in Pittsburgh, with his partner, an undergraduate student at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. Mr. Kinney and his partner, Justin Taylor-Kinney, were the focus of intense media attention two years ago due to the trial of Christian Hobbs who had bashed Mr. Taylor-Kinney at his senior prom. Brian Kinney was a witness to the crime, having attended the senior prom with the then 18-year-old Justin Taylor." The reporter stood once more outside of the firm's office building. "Like some tragic hero in a modern day tale from Shakespeare, unrequited love may have driven this captain of industry to kill himself."

Debbie shut off the television.

No one said anything for a while, then Em stood. "I think I'll see what's in the kitchen. Justin might get hungry later on." He said nothing about Brian. Wordlessly, Ted joined him.

The phone rang and Lindsay went out quickly into the reception hall to answer it, speaking low into the receiver. She returned in a few moments. "Marty Ryder."

Having slept through the earlier commotion, Leo came padding out of the conservatory to see what was happening. Finding a room full of people that he knew, he made the rounds, rubbing his face and tail and body against their legs. If he thought it was strange that no one was particularly glad to see him, he didn't seem to care much.

Finding the remote, Deb cut the television on again and no one said anything until Em and Teddy came back out of the kitchen.

"I fixed a salad. He probably won't eat much more than that."

Jennifer thanked him. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Paused. "I think it might be best if we left them alone."

"Not on your life," exclaimed Deb. "They need us."

"Justin will call if he does. Right now, I think what they need most is peace and quiet."

Joanie agreed. "There's nothing Brian hates more than pity."

"It's not pity," argued Lindsay. "It's love. We all love them."

"We can love them tomorrow," she said, holding her ground.

Vic took their side. "They're right. Come on, Sis."

"Michael?" Deb asked.

"Someone should stay. Just in case some reporters try to disturb them."

Both Joanie and Jenn thought that was a good idea. The rest agreed and left Michael to hold down the fort. With everyone else gone, he ventured upstairs to check on Brian and Justin. From the doorway he saw Justin still holding Brian's hand. Waiting until Justin had looked around, he said, "I'll be downstairs."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Gone home. I thought I'd play bouncer, in case some nosy reporter decides to chance the front door."

"Thanks, Michael."

"Em made salad, if you want any." Justin shook his head. "Well, it's there."

Left alone, Justin freed Brian's hand and touched his face instead. He was still cool to the touch but warmer than before. Justin leaned over and kissed his forehead, fussed with the covers, and sat back in his chair to resume his vigil. 

 

Sometime in the evening he'd fallen asleep and Michael had come in and spread a throw over him. He awoke, unsure if Michael was still there. Brian slept on. Going to the intercom, he tried the family room. No one answered. Then he saw a note on the bedpost.

Justin,

I've gone home. I don't think any reporters are gonna hang out past nine. Call me if you need me.

Michael

It was eleven o'clock. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of missed meals. There was a salad in the fridge Michael had said. Checking Brian once more, he decided to chance it. Just long enough to bring it up.

Although the salad looked delicious, Justin wanted something a little more substantial. With Leo watching, he made himself a turkey sandwich as well and carried both sandwich and salad back upstairs along with a bottle of ginger ale. He positioned his tray on the coffee table by the fireplace and sat down to eat.

"Hey."

"Shit!" He almost dropped his ginger ale. Then, scrambling to the bed, he beamed at his spouse. "Hey."

"I'm starving."

Justin bit his lip to contain his joy. "You can have half my salad and sandwich."

"What kind?"

No matter what, he remained Brian. "Turkey."

" 'kay." Sitting up in bed, he rearranged his pillows. He didn't feel steady enough to get up and join Justin at the table.

"Thirsty?"

"Little."

"I've got ginger ale but I could run downstairs and get something else."

"We can share."

So they did; they shared a quiet dinner on their bed, saying very little, just enjoying the food and the company and the peace and quiet. Leo curled up between them, ready to settle down again for the night.

After they'd finished, Justin took everything downstairs and returned as quickly as he could. Maybe Brian would feel like talking, he didn't know, he just wanted to be ready for anything.

He found Brian still sitting up in bed, stroking Leo as if it were the most important job in the world, to such a degree was his concentration. Or so it seemed. Immediately, his eyes focused on Justin as he came into the suite and followed him as he came closer to the bed. His eyes were troubled.

"Justin…"

He waited and when it didn't seem as if Brian was going to say anything else, he prompted him. "What is it? You can tell me. You can tell me anything."

Brian shook his head. "Not this."

"Anything."

_Kenneth raised the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger._

Brian flinched.

Touching him, attempting to ground him, Justin assured him, "Bri, I'm here."

Vision filled with blood and bone, Brian said in a hollow voice, "So is he." 

 

Positive that he hadn't heard what he thought he'd heard, Justin sat up in bed. He had heard what he thought he'd heard: Brian getting ready for work. He came out of the closet knotting his tie. "Where are you going?" Justin asked needlessly.

"Work."

"Brian… it's too soon."

"For what?"

"For you to go back."

Finishing with his tie, he shrugged. "They may not have my office ready today but I can work from one of the conference rooms."

Not wanting to get into an argument and aware that pretending it was business as usual was one of Brian's defense mechanisms, Justin tried to tread lightly. "You have to go downtown to sign your statement."

"Do it at lunch."

"It's probably crazy over there. Reporters, cameras. Probably crazy outside our house too. Was last night."

"We've handled reporters before."

Finally, he voiced his real concern. "Brian, I don't think you're ready to go back. I think you want to, I think you believe you need to, have to, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"Fine. That's your opinion and you've got a right to it."

"Do it for me." His ultimate weapon, one that he used sparingly out of respect for Brian's patience.

Brian sat at the foot of the bed, not looking at him. Through sheer willpower, Justin refrained from saying anything else over the next few moments while Brian thought through his options.

"All right. Just one day. For you."

Crawling across the comforter, Justin hugged and kissed him. "Thank you."

"You getting up?"

"Why?"

"I'm hungry."

"Oh, so I'm your cook now, huh?"

"I've gotta change clothes now that I'm staying home," Brian replied, his not-so-subtle reference to his having acquiesced to Justin's request.

With a second kiss, Justin climbed out of bed. "Anything in particular you want?"

"Surprise me," said Brian, heading back to the closet.

First things first, he had to take a leak and throw some water over his face. That done, Justin bounced downstairs with thoughts of breakfast dancing around his head. By the time he arrived in the kitchen, he'd settled on Belgian waffles. If Brian could wait that long. Smiling, he started the coffee. Brian would wait for his waffles.

Brian hung up his jacket and slacks and removed his dress shirt. Smelled the armpits. Still good. Hung it up as well. Rifled through his drawers for a pair of jeans. Snagged a sports shirt from its hanger. Maybe staying home wasn't such a bad idea. He could have a leisurely breakfast, maybe he and Justin could play—

He blinked and sat down on the bench in the closet. Swallowed. "No," he whispered, fighting back images of him and Kenneth. Images of the two of them entwined. Kenneth firing the gun at his head. Brian clamped his head between his hands. "No. No."

"Brian?" Justin found him like that. He put aside the cup of coffee he'd brought and sat down next to him. Softly stroked his thigh. "Bri? Bri, you okay?"

Unclamping his head, Brian looked down. He couldn't face Justin.

Justin brushed back Brian's hair. "It's all right."

Sniffling, Brian said quietly, "I hate this."

"It just takes time," Justin told him, thumbing a tear from his lover's cheek. He knew how impatient Brian could get with himself, believing he should be able to overcome anything in the blink of an eye.

"I hate this," he repeated. "And I hate…" But he couldn't say it. Couldn't say that he hated Kenneth because he didn't. He didn't hate him. God save him, he'd actually… loved him once upon a time.

"I know," said Justin. "I know," he assured him and he did. And it disturbed him that he did know how Brian felt, even more disturbing that he understood why. "It's okay."

Saying nothing, Brian laced his fingers with Justin's. 

 

Around two in the afternoon, the police called to say Brian's statement was ready and would he come down to read over it and sign it? They'd spent a quiet day so far, relatives calling early in the morning, Justin telling them not to come over until the evening. Brian had spoken to Drew by phone as well; afterwards Justin had talked to him too, assuring the therapist that Brian was in no immediate need of counseling. Now that they were to venture forth, he wasn't so certain. He really hoped the reporters were gone as he didn't know how Brian would react to the intrusion.

As they exited the house, he thought he heard voices coming from the street. Looking towards the end of the driveway, he saw them: the news vans, reporters on foot with cameramen and photographers lying in wait for the perfect photo op, the perfect shot. Brian got into the Cherokee without looking in that direction even once. Gathering his reserves, Justin guessed. He knew that Brian was thinking about Kenneth: he had that pinched look on his face indicative of pain.

Reaching over, he squeezed Brian's hand then released him, turned his attention to getting them out of the driveway without hitting any of the mob assembled just outside the fence. As they paused at the end of the drive, reporters began yelling at them even though the windows were up.

"Brian, can you tell us why Kenneth Harris killed himself in your office?"

"Was it true that he was in love with you?"

"Did you and Kenneth Harris have an affair?"

"Did you love him?"

Brian endeavored to look straight ahead, not to glance to either side. It was impossible for Justin not to do so as he had to check the road in either direction before pulling out into the street.

"Justin, were you aware of any sexual relationship between Brian and Kenneth Harris?"

"Were the two men arguing over you?"

At that he almost responded but good sense prevailed—they were just clutching at straws—and he drove out into the street leaving the question unanswered.

They didn't talk on the way to the station, there being not much to say that wouldn't dredge up unpleasant memories. Brian was dealing with enough of those already.

As Justin parked the car in the parking garage, Brian said, "Too bad Willie wasn't there to drive us." Their cab driver from the trial. "He would have mowed down those reporters."

"Least a couple." They laughed then kissed sweetly before getting out of the car. Held hands as they walked to the elevator. "Maybe we could stop off and see Mace before we go back home." She'd come to Brian's birthday party on Saturday, she and Cecil, and had danced up a storm. Even Em had been impressed. She hadn't contacted them since Kenneth's suicide but she had to have heard.

"We'll see," Brian replied. He couldn't imagine that he'd want to spend any more time away from home after reviewing his statement. Couldn't imagine that he'd want to do anything but crawl away to lick his wounds.

They went inside the station, spoke to the desk sergeant, found their way to the office of Detective Warshawski who had a copy of Brian's statement at the crime scene all typed up.

Instructed by the detective to review his statement carefully before signing it, Brian read through it line by line, sometimes pausing when the memories came too strongly, sometimes putting the paper aside for a moment until the feeling of vertigo passed. He read all of it and found nothing in error. It was as he remembered, although things had been rather hazy yesterday. Unfortunately, it was pretty cut and dry: Kenneth had walked into his office, they had exchanged a few words, and then Kenneth had shot himself. He signed the statement.

"Everything look okay?" Det. Warshawski asked although it was a little too late now. He'd already affixed his signature.

"Yeah."

The detective looked sheepish as if he didn't know how to deal with Brian. "I'm sorry about what happened. Tough break."

Amused by the sheer ineptitude demonstrated by the cop, Brian laughed. "I'm glad you're not a doctor. Your bedside manner sucks."

"Yeah, well," admitted the detective, "I never was too good at comforting people."

Brian sobered. "Don't worry. There's no point." He paused, avoiding Justin's eyes. "I don't think it's possible. Least not for me."

Saying nothing on the way to the car, Justin waited until they were buckled in. "You believe that? What you told that cop?"

"Baby…"

"Please, don't give up. Please, Brian." He had visions of Brian about to swallow a handful of pills and it frightened him. If that happened, if Brian died, there'd be nothing for him. Nothing but darkness.

"I won't," Brian promised him. Added angrily, helplessly, "What a fuckin' mess." Grimaced. "I should have… I never should have let it go so far. I never should have—"

Those words echoed his own to Rev. Ophelia last year when he'd been angry at Brian for supposedly sleeping with Kenneth. And he remembered what she'd told him, that it was impossible to control people's feelings. "There was nothing you could have done. Kenneth was a grown man, you couldn't control how he felt. And you couldn't have known what he'd do."

Brian stared out of the window for a while. Then he said in a soft voice, "He came to my job, Justin. He came to me. On my fuckin' birthday. He wanted to hurt me. To punish me. And he did."

The reporters were still waiting for them when they returned to the house, still clamoring for their attention, demanding that they answer questions for which they had no real answers. It was easy to say that Kenneth was upset about the rape, about Brian's rejection of him, but did that really explain why a successful businessman with his entire life ahead of him would kill himself? Brian had said that Kenneth had wanted to hurt him, to punish him, but at the price of his life? Had Kenneth really believed that there were no other men, no other chances at finding love? Had he been that afraid that Brian would spill about the rape? What? Had he despaired that deeply because of his actions? Had he found them unforgivable? There hadn't been a note left either at the scene nor in Birmingham and, in Brian's office, the only thing Kenneth had said was, "I would never hurt you," and then he'd proceeded to hurt Brian immeasurably.

Now that they were home, he didn't feel like playing, didn't feel like doing anything but curling up on his chaise lounge and trying to forget that yesterday had happened. But he could not. He needed to find out about his office. Sitting in his study, he called Cynthia's desk, got a recording.

_"You've reached the desk of Cynthia Banks, at Searle and Associates. I will be out of the office until May 3rd. If you're trying to reach Brian Kinney, he will be out of the office until further notice."_

Until further notice. Cynthia was taking the rest of the week off and there was a message saying he'd be out of the office until further notice. He remembered Cynthia rushing into his office and seeing Kenneth and throwing up. She hadn't deserved to see what she had. He wished she'd been out that day. Hanging up, he wondered if she'd gone to her mother's. He had that number somewhere, in case of emergencies. Not wanting to disturb her if she were, he tried Marty's office first.

"Marty Ryder's office, Susan speaking."

She sounded short, probably expecting to have to deal with a reporter. "Susan, it's Brian."

Sharp intake of breath. "Brian, how are you?"

"I'm good. Marty in?"

"I'll put you through."

Marty came on the line. "Brian."

"Marty, I just called my office and got Cynthia's message. Do you know if she went to her mother's?"

"I believe she did. Brian… I'm sorry about what happened."

"Not your fault." Then: "Reporters been around?"

"Non-stop. You can hardly get in the building."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault. Is there anything you need?"

"Time machine," he joked. Only how far back would he go? Back to after the trial, when he'd first met Kenneth? Putting that thought aside, he asked, "What about my office?"

"Cleaning crew's been in there." Paused. "We'll have to replace the carpet. Any preference?"

"No." He almost laughed. Here they were discussing new carpet choices as if a man hadn't blown his brains all over the old carpet.

"That message on Cynthia's machine, I want you to take heed of it. Stay out as long as you need."

"I need to get back to work, Marty. I need to feel like my life didn't stop on Monday."

"Don't rush it, Brian, that's all I'm saying. You take care."

"Thanks, Marty." He hung up and thumbed the corner of his eye. Hoped the tears would stop there. But they didn't. He let them come, silent tears that trickled down his face. Despite what he'd said to Marty, he did feel as if his life had stopped on Monday. But it hadn't. And right now he needed to go downstairs and start dinner. It was his night to cook and he intended to do it.

Finding Justin in the kitchen about to start preparations, he shooed him away. The young artist didn't argue, just took himself into his studio to work. Despite not knowing when he was going to return to school, he had projects to complete. Rennie and Xavier had called yesterday and today with assignments and to find out how he and Brian were doing. They'd agreed to give the two spouses time to heal alone, promising to visit the weekend. Justin had almost told them to come over, he needed the distraction, needed to laugh. Daphne had called this morning as well, on the verge of driving up from Princeton but he'd convinced her not to. They were okay, he'd told her, even though that was a lie. They would be okay. He hoped. Right now, they were in survival mode, just trying to make it through each day as it came.

With Justin out of the way, Brian tried to concentrate on dinner. Problem was, he had no idea what to make. Taking Justin's advice, he checked to see what they had on hand. Everything. Or almost everything. They'd gone shopping Sunday afternoon to restock after the party. He wasn't in the mood to fix anything elaborate. Well, they had ground chicken, he could make chili. Checked the pantry for chili mix, found it, and went about gathering the rest of the ingredients.

Sitting in one of the armchairs in the conservatory, Justin tried to read a chapter in his textbook and found that he could not concentrate. Finally, he gave up the pretence and put the book away. Checked the plants to see if they needed watering. Sat listening to the sound of the water flowing in the simple fountain Joanie had designed for the conservatory. It was so soothing. Relaxing. He could—

The doorbell shattered the peace and quiet. Sighing, he resigned himself to enduring a visit from one of their friends or maybe even Joanie or Jenn. They'd come to the front door so Brian probably hadn't heard them. Opening the door, he found Lindsay and Gus standing on the other side. "Hey."

"Someone wanted to see you," she said and Gus came in and held up his arms.

Justin lifted him into an embrace and a kiss. "Hey, Gus."

"Hey, Daddy."

"Did you just come from school?"

"Yeah."

"Was it fun?"

"Uh-huh."

"What'd you do?"

"We painted."

"What did you paint?"

"Leo." His favorite subject. "Where's Leo, Daddy?"

"Upstairs asleep probably. You want to go see him?"

"Yeah."

Lindsay stopped him. "You want to go see Daddy first?"

Gus thought about it. " 'kay. Where's Daddy?"

"He's in the kitchen," Justin told him. "I bet he'll be glad to see you."

Gus ran off to the kitchen to see Brian.

"So how is he?"

"Honestly?" She nodded. "I don't know. I don't know, Lindz. This…" He sat down in one of the chairs in the hall.

"How are you?"

"Hanging in there." He shook his head. "It's hard. Not to hate Kenneth for what he did. But then I think about what he did, that he killed himself, and I can't hate him, Lindsay. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Brian. Maybe I'd be desperate enough to do something like—"

"Don't say it." She twisted her hat.

"I've thought it," he admitted. "That if he died, I would do it. I wouldn't have anything to live for, Lindsay. Not without him."

Brian had turned just in time to see Gus rushing towards him and he'd put down what he was doing to prepare himself for an all-out assault.

"Daddy!"

"Hey!" Brian swung him up in the air and Gus shrieked.

"Do it again!"

Again Brian swung him up and then held him close. Kissed him. "I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"Love me?"

"Yeah."

"You want to help me cook?"

"I want to see Leo."

"Oh," Brian feigned disappointment. "That's okay. You go see Leo and leave me here all alone."

Gus looked at his daddy, then tugged on his hand. "Go with me, Daddy."

"I have to cook."

The little boy looked conflicted. Then ran to the bottom of the stairwell and shouted, "Leo! Leo, come here!"

Brian laughed. Leave it to Gus to find the solution.

There having been no way Leo couldn't have heard Gus shouting, the cat came down the stairs. But he took them at a stately pace. Already he had begun to acquire the grace of an older cat now that he was a year old. Still some of the kitten remained as he jumped up in Gus' arms from the steps. The toddler giggled and carried Leo into the kitchen. There the two of them played on the floor while Brian cooked. 

 

In the end, Lindsay and Gus had decided to stay for dinner, calling Mel on her cell so that she could join them. Joanie had showed up as well so they'd made it a family dinner, Mikey and the guys saying they'd come over later after a few drinks at Woody's. Justin had hoped that they'd have a few too many and just go home instead of dropping by; he'd been tired and had wanted to turn in early, but the guys had come and sat around talking about nothing for an hour and a half. Which had turned out to be exactly what Brian had needed. He'd laughed, really laughed for the first time in two days.

Now, as they retired to bed, he reached for Justin and kissed him softly. Then, just as gently, put him away from him. He wasn't ready for anything more. Justin understood.

"You going in to work tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Marty says I should take my time but for what? What, exactly, am I waiting for? I'm gonna go stir crazy around here if I stay home doing nothing."

"Then do something." Justin tossed his clothes in the hamper. Although making love wasn't on tonight's agenda, he still liked the feel of Brian's bare skin against his own. They rarely wore anything to bed unless Gus was visiting. Even then, a robe kept at the foot of the bed was infinitely preferable to briefs and pajamas.

"Like what?"

"You can start preparing the herb beds for planting. Turn the soil by the garage." They'd planned on cultivating a few vegetables this year in addition to the herbs. Tomatoes, peppers, maybe some carrots. Seeing the less than enthusiastic look Brian gave him, he offered another suggestion. "You could finish decorating your study." So far it contained a desk and chair for Brian and his chaise lounge. That was it. No place for a guest to sit unless on the Le Corbusier. No bookshelves, no side tables, just three pieces of furniture in a rather empty space. There wasn't even a rug beneath the desk, just the tiled floor. Brian kept saying that he preferred the stark look in contrast to the rest of the house and he said it now.

"I like it the way it is."

"Then you can look for stuff to go in the library." It too was conspicuously void of furniture. Books occupied about a fifth of the shelves but there was no seating, no tables, no lamps.

"I thought that's what we had Joanie for."

"She's busy with classes," Justin explained. He thought it was so cool that his mother-in-law was a freshman in college. She'd survived her first semester and come through with a 3.25 average, which was fantastic considering she'd graduate from high school over thirty-five years ago and had never attended any classes at the college or university level. Brian was proud of her too. He'd given her an amazing leather portfolio for Christmas, saying she needed something impressive when she shopped around her work.

But none of Justin's ideas appealed to Brian. He wanted to go back to work. "I'm going in," he announced, the decision made.

"You seeing Drew?" Brian had agreed to see the therapist every other day for a while, until Drew was confident Brian was back on his feet.

"Got an appointment in the afternoon." He slipped into bed, the sheets cool the way he liked them. Shared another kiss with Justin, "Night, Baby," before turning over to sleep. He felt Leo jump onto the bed and take up his accustomed place at the foot of the bed. The cat had long since given up the slender edge next to Brian for far roomier accommodations near the foot board. Still, he'd probably end up between them before the morning came.

Sliding up against Brian's back and wrapping an arm around him, Justin laid his head between his shoulder blades. Gave him a little kiss. Worried about Brian's plan to return to work, he was willing to support him if that's what Brian wanted. He just hoped everything went smoothly. 

 

Now that he was here, he wasn't sure he'd done the right thing. Standing before the closed doors of his office suite, he felt some trepidation. It wasn't right that Cynthia wasn't there, guarding his inner sanctum. He felt her absence keenly and wished he'd called her last night the way he'd intended. But she needed time away from here, time away from what had occurred, and hearing his voice would have only dredged up memories she'd probably rather not recall. He was certain he did not wish to relive them. Even now he fought to clear his mind of specifics.

Before coming to his office, he'd stopped by Marty's, gotten Susan's assurance that they'd pulled up the old carpet and were awaiting the new. In the meanwhile, they'd put down area rugs.

Slowly, he turned the knob and walked into Cynthia's space. Flipped the switches that controlled the ceiling lights in both parts of the suite. The door to his office hadn't been closed, merely pulled to. A crack of light shone through.

Crossing the office to the door was harder than he imagined it would be. He paused, once there, with his hand flat against the wood panel. Pushed.

Kenneth stood with his back to him. He saw himself seated at his desk. Saw his other self look up. Say, "Get out. Get the fuck out of my—"

Kenneth drew the gun from his coat.

"Kenneth… Kenneth, please… Please, Kenneth…" he said, begging for his life. But Kenneth had no intention of killing him.

"I would never hurt you," the man replied and then placed the barrel against his temple.

He heard himself say too late, "No! Kenneth, no!" before the gun went off. Blood seemed to be everywhere. Kenneth's body crumpled. The other Brian yelled, "No! No!" and fell against his desk.

Brian stumbled back outside of his suite, screaming, "No!" as he backed out into the corridor. Fell against a wall. Shrieking. He could hear himself shrieking but he couldn't stop. Couldn’t stop the sound from leaving his lips. And the blood flowed outwards from his office, staining all it touched. 

 

Marty found him in the conference room, seated on a sofa, shivering. "Brian?" Haunted eyes turned towards him. "Why did you come back so soon?"

"I didn't want to work in the herb garden." Tears spilled over onto his cheeks as he began to laugh.

When Brian had recovered, Ryder asked, "Are you're staying home tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he promised with a chuckle. "I'm staying home."

"I think that's a good idea." Laughed himself. "Not that Bob and Brad aren't in need of some serious supervision—"

"Thought that was Darren's job."

Ryder laughed again. "What did I ever see in that schmuck?"

"Younger version of yourself?"

Patting him on his knee, Marty rose. "You'll be all right. Same arrogant asshole as always." Paused at the door. "Take a week, take two. That's an order. Senior partner to junior partner."

Taking a deep breath, Brian didn't think he'd have any problem with following orders this time. He was beat. 

 

The phone ringing woke him up. He reached for it without even opening his eyes. Didn't believe he was actually lucid. "Hello?"

"His funeral is today. You killed him, the least you can do is come and watch them bury your victim." Click.

Justin stretched. "Who was it?" he yawned.

Brian put the phone back and sat on the edge of the bed. "They're burying Kenneth today. That was my engraved invitation."

Concerned, Justin said, "Brian, you can't go." The press would be there, it would be a feeding frenzy. Brian was fragile enough as is.

"No. I can't," he conceded. It'd be like going to the courthouse for Chris Hobbs' trial, only a thousand times worse. The press still hounded them, gathering around the entrance to the driveway. A few had followed him to work yesterday, he hadn't even looked last night to see if his trip to the office had made it on the news. No way the press wouldn't be at the funeral today and if he showed up… And why would he show up? Kenneth had irrevocably ended their relationship the moment he'd given Brian that drugged drink. He'd thought. So why was he even considering going to his funeral?

Sliding off the bed, Justin declared that he had to get ready for class. When Brian didn't move, he began to worry. Went around and sat next to him. "What can I do?"

"Can't do anything," Brian replied.

He knew what Brian was thinking. "If you go… Brian, you know what it'll be like. The press will be all over you. Is that what you want? And what about Kenneth's friends and family? I'm sure a few of them blame you for what happened."

He knew they did. The phone call had confirmed that. "I know that I can't go." He rose and headed for the bathroom.

Justin sighed and followed.

In the shower, he washed Brian's back and tried not to think of happier days when all it took was a hand slipping down over someone's ass or crotch to get them started. But he couldn't help it. He pressed close to his husband and slid his arms around his torso, washing his chest with easy motions. He knew Brian could feel his cock plumping against his thigh. Hoped Brian wouldn't push him away.

"Baby…"

"I just want to touch you. That's all."

But Brian turned and trapped Justin between himself and the wall. "That's not all I want," he said breathlessly and he kissed him hard. "How long until your class?" he asked between breaths.

"Fuck it," Justin replied and pulled him out of the shower and into their bedroom.

Tumbling onto the bed, they attempted to grab hold of flesh slippery with soap and water. Justin wrapped his hand around Brian's cock and stroked it while they kissed, feeling it swell in his hand. His own pulsed as they rubbed against one another and he could feel his asshole tensing, wanting Brian inside it. He continued to pull on Brian's dick, getting it harder and harder. Finally, he rolled Brian over onto his back and kissed his way down his chest, still jacking his cock. When he reached his groin, he went down on him, Brian's soft murmuring in his ears as he lovingly sucked him.

Justin had only intended to blow him until he was hard enough to ride but the taste and feel of Brian's dick kept him bobbing long after Brian was stiff: the taste of precum and the feel of his cockhead sliding over his tongue. With regret, he released him and waited while Brian lubed his erection. Then he squatted over Brian and slowly impaled himself on his dick. All regrets dissolved away as he was filled with cock. All thoughts vanished as Brian slid in and out of him. 

 

Even though he knew better, Brian turned on the national news to see if there was any mention of Kenneth's funeral. Justin hadn't gotten home yet, he was working the evening shift at the diner and wouldn't be back until eleven which meant Brian and Leo were on their own. If he'd have asked, Justin would have switched shifts but he hadn't asked. It was time for him to start coping on his own. Which sounded great in his head but as he sat waiting for word of Kenneth's funeral on the news, he didn't feel quite so confident.

So far they hadn't said anything about Kenneth. Brian figured he'd grab a beer from the fridge when the news anchor said, "Earlier this week we reported on the suicide of Kenneth Harris, a prominent businessman in the biotech field. Today, Harris was buried in his home of Birmingham, Alabama. With the story, here's Jeff Crawford."

Brian watched in disbelief as Michael's boyfriend reported on Kenneth's funeral.

Jeff stood in front of Kenneth's home. "On Monday, residents of Birmingham, Alabama's exclusive Highgate neighborhood were shocked by the news that prominent local businessman, Kenneth Harris, had killed himself. By today, that shock had turned into sadness and anger. Sadness that such a vibrant and brilliant man had killed himself; anger that it was apparently due to a case of unrequited love."

A shot of people arriving for the afternoon service at the cemetery. "More than a hundred mourners turned out for the brief service at the St. Joseph's Episcopal Cemetery. A service which commemorated the life of both a biotech innovator and savvy businessman."

He switched off the television and sat stunned by what he'd seen. Michael had told Justin that Jeff had turned down the story of Kenneth's suicide. Obviously, that hadn't extended to his funeral. Anger rolled over him in waves and he longed to let himself be carried away by it but he couldn't. Mikey was his best friend. He had to try and understand for his sake. So he called him on his cell. "Mikey."

"Hey. How you doing?"

"Be doing better if I hadn't just seen Jeff's story on the news."

There was silence at the other end. Then, "I know what I told Justin…"

"Was it just a lie then?"

"They asked him to do it."

"Do or die?"

"He felt like he had to take the assignment."

"I see."

"Brian, I know you're pissed—"

"You don't know how I feel. You have no fucking idea." Paused to calm down. "I don't want him in my house ever again, understand?"

"Brian—"

"Ever, Michael."

And Michael knew, the same as when Debbie used his full name, whenever Brian called him 'Michael' he knew his best friend was dead serious. "Okay." He waited a moment before asking, "You need anything?"

"No. I'll talk to you later."

Brian hung up before he could say goodbye. 

 

Although Mel and Lindsay offered to have Gus forgo his weekend with his daddies, Brian insisted that he come over. "I'm not a goddamn psycho case. I can deal with a three-year-old."

"He's almost four and he's a lot to handle," Lindsay explained. "Even when you're in peak condition and you're not right now."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she argued.

He'd come to get Gus by himself since Justin was still at work. He hadn't gone in, hadn't been able to face his office, not yet. Didn't want to deal with the sideways glances, the well-meaning comments from his co-workers. Or worse, having to explain to the other partners why, once again, the company was facing a public relations nightmare thanks to him. "I will be," he countered.

"How can you do that if you're chasing after Gus?"

"It's just for the weekend. Lindz…" He took a deep breath. "It's bad enough I can't go back to work yet; I can't let him take my son too."

"Gus isn't going anywhere." She held his hand, stroked the tops of his fingers. "I just want you to take care of yourself."

"I'm trying."

"You and Justin okay?"

"Yeah."

"Talk to Michael?"

"Not since Kenneth's funeral."

Not since he'd seen Jeff's story, he meant. She knew.

"Michael's in a tough position."

"I didn't ask him to stop seeing Jeff. I just don't want to see Jeff."

"You're forcing Michael to choose between the two of you."

"I won't take the blame for him breaking up with Jeff. I'm sick and tired of being blamed for every fuckin' thing!"

Gus, who was playing in the livingroom with Beh, looked up alarmed.

"Bri?" It was more than just Michael and Jeff.

"Someone called me the morning of Kenneth's funeral. Said he was my 'victim.' "

"Bullshit." She could see the pain in his eyes. "Brian? It's not your fault."

"He came to see me, at home, the week before." He paused. "I wish I had been… kinder."

"He raped you."

"He loved me, Lindz." Brian looked into her eyes to gauge her reaction to his next statement. "And I felt something for him. Love. Something. And I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have felt anything for him."

She could hear the anger in his voice and it made her even more worried. Maybe spending some time with Gus was what he needed to take his mind off Kenneth and the guilt he was surely feeling. 

 

Joanie had come over for dinner and she and Justin bustled around in the kitchen while Gus and Leo played out in the reception area and Brian sat alone in the family room not watching the movie that was playing on the television. He'd been home all week and was about to go stir crazy. And today's excursion to the Munchers' hadn't done it, not by a long shot. What he really wanted to do was to take a long drive, out on the Turnpike with a bunch of asshole drivers so he couldn't think about his problems, would be forced to concentrate on the road and nothing else.

Gus ran into the room and missed a floor lamp by an eighth of an inch.

"Gus, goddamnit, stop running!" Brian bellowed before he could even think, bringing Joanie and Justin out of the kitchen to see what was wrong.

The toddler stopped and his face crumpled.

"Christ."

He began to cry, loudly. Instantly, Justin was there to pick him up and carry him into the conservatory, one of Gus' favorite places.

Brian could feel Joanie's eyes on him.

"Do you want to end up like your father? Like Jack?"

"Don't—"

"He didn't start out smacking you around. At first, he'd yell at you and belittle you and then when that didn't seem to work, he started hitting you."

"I would never hit Gus."

She sat next to him and waited as Justin often did, knowing he'd talk when he was ready.

He studied his hands in his lap, hands that could hurt the way his father had used his hands to hurt him. Hands like Kenneth's hands, one wrapped around a gun. "It was horrible," he whispered.

Joanie reached for him.

"And I loved him, Mom." He glanced at her, afraid to see her reaction. "So how do you think God feels about that?"

"I don't know about God but I know how I feel." She tightened her grip on his hand. "And I'm sorry, Brian."

Gesturing with his head towards the conservatory. "How do I tell him?"

"You don't. He knows," Joanie explained. "It's why he loves you."

"Because I loved someone else?"

"Because you can. Because you have a heart and you care."

"I wish that I didn't. Maybe if I hadn't…" He left the thought unspoken and stood. "I better go check on Gus." Paused by the fountain. "Thanks, Mom."

Still holding Gus in his arms, Justin looked up as Brian entered the conservatory. Gus had his face pressed against his chest, sniffling a little, spell almost over. Wordlessly, Justin signaled for Brian to take the toddler, which he did. A little frightened, Gus watched Brian with wide eyes.

Sitting, Brian stroked gently Gus' arm. "You okay?" Gus said nothing, just nodded. "Did I scare you?" Gus nodded again. "I didn't mean to scare you and I didn't mean to yell at you. That was wrong and I'm sorry. Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah," he said softly.

"Yeah?" Brian asked, planting a kiss on the little boy's cheek.

Gus giggled. "Yeah," he said, returning the kiss, stroking Brian's jaw which was devoid of hair. Sometimes Brian thought the toddler missed his beard but Justin had gotten one too many burns and off it had come sometime before their anniversary trip to New York.

"I love you," Brian told him, hugging him tightly.

"I love you, Daddy." As Brian put him down, Gus asked, "Daddy? Let's play hide-go-seek." It was his favorite game.

Brian smiled. Forgiveness always came at a price. "You go hide and I'll come look for you." He turned away and covered his eyes and started to count. "One, two, three—"

"Slow!" Gus reminded him before running from the room. 

 

Justin stroked Brian's bare thigh from crotch to knee and felt a muscle twitch beneath his palm. Drew his hand back up along that same muscle and cupped his cock. Gently squeezed the head and shaft.

They were downstairs in the conservatory which had become one of their preferred places to make love, the fragrance of the flowers and the sound of the water from the rustic fountain lending an exotic feel to the ambiance. Even though he now had to religiously take his allergy medicine, Justin loved the conservatory.

He was sprawled out on the sofa naked, Justin next to him, hand around his dick, stroking it, and his cock was responding: he could feel it getting harder, longer, thicker. Justin had such talented fingers; the way they danced down his shaft, swirled around his balls, and brushed across the tip of his dick had him shivering. He drew Justin over onto his lap, the younger man's back resting on his knees and he leaned over and kissed him as he explored his lover's body, his own talented fingers seeking out the places where pleasure resided: tweaking Justin's nipples, tracing the line of his ribs, encircling his navel, and combing through the thick growth of hair at his groin. Brian palmed his little boy's scrotum and rubbed his balls as they kissed, Justin murmuring words of encouragement into his mouth.

He let his legs fall wide open, one foot hooked over the back of the sofa, the other resting on the floor so that his ass was conveniently available to Brian's fingers. The man wasted no time in traveling from his sac to his hole, the pad of one finger massaging the moist, tightly closed opening. Justin moaned as Brian gained entrance. His finger felt so good, playing in his hole, working it, relaxing it, preparing the way for his cock which Justin could feel against his side as they continued to kiss. He wanted it.

Reaching down, Justin gripped Brian's arm and eased it away, his finger sliding free of his ass. He turned onto his belly, went up onto his knees, and caught Brian's cock in his mouth.

"Yeah, Baby…" Brian whispered as his lover went down on him, lips and tongue driving him crazy.

Head twisting, bobbing, Justin sucked Brian's dick until it began to drip. Letting it free, he lapped at the tip, each drop of precum disappearing on his tongue. Drew it back inside his mouth for another go round.

He was so hard he ached and he wanted Justin so badly… He reached over and cupped a plump cheek, squeezed it hard. Probed between his buttocks until he found his hole again. In went his finger for the second time. Justin moaned around his cock, the vibration going straight to his balls, and he hissed. Justin's lips tightened around the head of his cock and his tongue rubbed over the tip making Brian rise up from the seat. Jesus, Justin knew how to take a man to the edge.

With Brian's dick hard in his mouth, Justin was loathe to release him but he wanted Brian's mouth on him, on his cock, wanted his tongue in his ass, and he wanted it now. Brian's dick slid free of his lips, shiny and hard. He kissed the head, kissed down the shaft, kissed his balls, still hungry for it. Finally, he pulled away and lay back against the arm of the chair. Held his cock up by the base. "Suck me," he commanded, voice thick with desire. "Suck my dick."

The words grabbed Brian by the balls and squeezed. He went down on his knees by the side of the sofa and gobbled Justin's cock. Saliva ran down the shaft as he slurped his way from head to balls.

Justin's stomach muscles clenched as Brian blew him. He was barely keeping it together, barely fighting the urge to come. "Oh!" he cried out and held Brian's head to his groin, cock buried in his throat. All he needed was a moment, just needed to be still one moment. There, he could breathe again. He let go of Brian's hair and the man resumed sucking his dick.

But Brian really wanted his ass. Drawing off of his meat, Brian pushed Justin's legs up, exposing his hole. Plunged his face between his cheeks and lapped his bud. Hearing Justin's groans, he redoubled his efforts, stiffening his tongue and pushing inside him.

"Ah! Oh God…" Justin's cock throbbed. "Oh God… Fuck me. Fuck me, Brian." He let his head loll against the arm of the sofa. "Fuck me."

But Brian wasn't through rimming him. He laved his hole with his tongue, loved his ass with his mouth until Justin's anus began to spasm. Kissing it, he slipped his tongue in one last time then rose up. His cock bounced against his belly.

Justin's eyes could barely focus. "Fuck me," he whispered.

Brian lubed his cock. Pulled Justin to his knees.

He held onto the arm of the chair as Brian got into position behind him. Mouth fell open in a soundless cry as Brian penetrated him. He felt Brian's cock slide deeper inside his ass. Felt it bump his prostate which sent him spinning. His vision had just cleared when Brian came to rest, pubic hair tickling his hole.

"Yeah," said Brian, resting for a moment, loving the way Justin's muscles held him. He backed out, feeling them clench him, trying to hold onto his dick.

He rested his head on his arm as Brian fucked his ass, forehead turning red as time passed and Brian continued to pump him. God, there was nothing like this, nothing like the feel of Brian's dick inside him, nothing like the sensation of his thick cock head bumping into his swollen prostate. He loved the way Brian would withdraw until only the head was left inside him, stretching his hole. Then he would pull out all the way and rub his hole with the wet tip. And then push back in and fuck him with the head alone.

Brian held his cock right where the shaft and glans met and fucked Justin with just the head, in and out, in and out until the young man was panting and begging him to put it in him all the way. He complied and buried his cock in his ass, sliding all the way home.

"Yes…" moaned Justin, wanting to shout.

He slowed down his strokes, fucking him with an easy motion, hips swaying leisurely. Ran his hands over Justin's sweat slicked back, squeezing his neck muscles, tugging on his damp hair. "I love you," he said softly. "I love you." He backed out of Justin and plopped down on a seat cushion. "Come on," he said and Justin straddled him, arms around his neck, and sat down on his cock.

"Ahh…" he sighed as he was filled again. He came to rest and tightened his ass muscles.

"Fuck yeah, Baby," Brian gasped.

Pumping his hips, he worked Brian's cock in his ass, muscles squeezing him, stroking him. He rotated his behind, tugging Brian's dick first in one direction and then the other.

"Christ."

Rubbed his cock against Brian's belly as he thrust his hips back and forth.

"Yeah, Baby, yeah…" Brian held onto his waist as the young artist worked his cock.

Then he began to bounce. Up and down, rise and fall, taking Brian's dick into his ass and then letting it slide free, but not all the way, just up a few inches, down, and up again. Mouth wide open, he fucked himself on Brian's cock, asshole clinging to the shaft as he rose and fell.

Finding Justin's lips, Brian kissed him deeply as they fucked, both of them groaning into the other's mouth, inhaling the other's breath, the other's cries.

His balls jumped inside their sac and he exhaled as cum surged from his cock to stain Brian's belly. He gripped Brian's dick as he came, asshole palpitating around the thick shaft.

Jutting upwards once, twice, three times, Brian erupted. He gripped Justin's buttocks and held them as he came inside him. When he was through, he slumped against the back of the sofa, exhausted, spent. Justin laid his head against his neck and kissed him softly and Brian stroked his ass, still buried inside.

"The super would have definitely left a note," Justin muttered and Brian laughed.

"Definitely." 

 

_Kenneth walked into his office and he looked up. The words he'd intended to say stuck in his throat. Kenneth stopped and stared at him. They remained that way for some time before Kenneth started to speak. "Brian—"_

_"Don't. Don't say anything." He closed his eyes. "Please. Just… don't." He felt a pain in his chest, knew that Kenneth had killed himself._

He awoke, trembling. No matter how many times his mind tried to change the events of the past, Kenneth always died.

Wondering if he should pretend to be asleep any longer, Justin decided to fess up. He turned, asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Brian lied. Tried to brush off his concern. "It's hot, that's all." He threw back the covers and left the bed. Truthfully, it was a bit warm in their bedroom even though the heat was off, spring having arrived at last.

"You had another dream about Kenneth, didn't you?"

"It's been a week," he replied. He still hadn't returned to work, wasn't sure when he would. If the way he felt was any indication, it'd be a while yet. Cynthia had gone in today; he'd called her to tell her he probably wouldn't be making an appearance. That he didn't know when he'd be back to work. Drew had told him to take it easy, so had Ryder and Justin. Now, if he could only take their advice.

"Give it time, Brian."

"How much? How much more of my life do I give to him?" He sat in an armchair by the unlit fireplace.

Joining him, Justin perched on the edge of the sofa. Reached for his hand. "You're not giving him your life. You're taking it back. Bri, he can't hurt you anymore."

He laughed abruptly. "What more can he do to me?"

"Bri…"

"Go back to bed."

"Come too."

He shook his head.

Knowing when to give up, Justin left him to brood. Kissed the top of his head as he passed. Felt Brian touch his hip. There was nothing he could do. Brian had to work this out for himself. 

 

Upon waking, Justin saw that Brian hadn't come back to bed. He was still sitting in the chair, or rather he was slumped over in the chair, having fallen asleep in the night. Hating to wake him, Justin did so anyway. "Brian? Brian, get up."

He came to almost immediately. "What?"

"It's morning. You slept in the chair."

Brian stretched his neck and back. "Fuck."

"You want any breakfast?" He was starving and wanted to eat before heading off to class.

"No."

"You didn't eat much dinner last night." Had just picked at his food.

"I don't want anything."

"You should—"

"I said I don't want anything now would you please leave me the fuck alone!" and he stormed off to the bathroom.

Justin remained where he stood. He hadn't meant to push but he had. And he knew that Brian hadn't meant to snap at him, he knew that, but still, it smarted. Putting the hurt aside, he went downstairs to use the bathroom there before fixing something to eat. Leo padded behind him.

He knew he'd hurt Justin and he didn't know what to do to make it right again. Knew he couldn't promise him that it wouldn't happen again because it probably would happen again. Unless he did something about it. 

 

"How you holding up?"

"I can't believe it's only been a week. Feels like it's been forever."

"That'll pass."

"I wish I could believe you."

"Why don't you?"

"Cause it's gotten… in me. And I…" He paused to get his thoughts together. "I feel like I'm wound so tight. Everything sets me off. I yelled at Gus this weekend. I yelled at Justin this morning. And I'm so…"

"So what?"

"Angry."

"At what? Who?"

"How the fuck could he do this to me? How could he…?" He went to the window as Drew knew he would. It was his place more so than the armchair he habitually sat in. Knowing what Becker's response would be to his statement, he stayed there as he spoke. "I let him die."

"Brian—"

"I stood there and watched him die. I can't ever forget that. And I shouldn't. It should fuckin' haunt me to my grave."

"You are not to blame."

"He came to me. He wanted to talk and all I did was accuse him. I was so angry, I couldn’t listen to him. I just—I didn't want anything he said to be true. But it was. It was all true and… I didn't want to hear it. I just wanted him to go. I wanted him to be gone." He took a deep breath. "And now he is. Now he's gone forever. And I can't ever say that I'm sorry. That I… that I loved him and I'm sorry that I did because I shouldn't have. I should have left him alone, I should have stayed away from him. But I just… I loved him," he whispered. "Just not enough."

Drew went to him. "He knew, Brian. He knew." 

 

But he couldn't be sure. That thought stayed with him the rest of the day: that Kenneth had died thinking he hated him.

Around four the phone rang. He thought it was Justin, checking on their dinner plans. He didn't feel like going out, facing the crowds. Even though the press had vanished, he was certain Kenneth's suicide was still relatively fresh in people's minds. Then again, the masses were fickle. Still, he didn't want to go out. "Hey," he said, certain that it was his spouse.

"Mr. Kinney?"

It wasn't. "Yes."

"My name is Bill Kramer and I am the executor of Kenneth Harris' estate."

He wanted to hang up but he didn't. "What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Harris wrote a codicil to his will just a few days before he died."

Brian felt a pain in his chest. "I don't know what it is but—"

"Please, Mr. Kinney, Kenneth was quite adamant about it. I had no idea what he had planned… I suppose, in retrospect, I should have suspected something. In any case, he did leave you something in his will. It's a painting. A Japanese painting. A special kind. They call them…" Brian could hear him rustling his notes.

"I don't care. I don't want it." He slammed down the phone; waited until he'd calmed down, and picked up the receiver again. Dialed Justin's cell. "You want to eat out?" 

 

He didn't tell Justin about the call or the fact that Kenneth had left him a painting in his will. There was no reason to do so. He had no intention of accepting it. Didn't want to know anything more about it and hoped Mr. Kramer dropped it. There was a videocassette somewhere in the world of himself and Cam in New York that he'd had to throw away; he wanted no more posthumous presents. 

 

"I'll get it!" he called out to Justin in his studio and shook his head. _Why the fuck did the previous owners even bother putting intercoms in this house when all they did was yell at one another from different rooms?_ Flipping the speaker on, he asked, "Yes?" of the person who had knocked.

"Mr. Kinney?"

He recognized the voice almost immediately. "Mr. Kramer, I told you—"

"Please, it'll only take a moment."

Hand on the lock, he debated his actions, then turned it and opened the door. Kramer, who looked exactly as he'd imagined him—middle-aged, slightly overweight, well-dressed—stood on the other side with a paper-wrapped object in his hands. The painting, Brian supposed.

"Mr. Kinney, I know this is a difficult situation—"

"He shot himself in my office, right in front of me. Now you come to my home bearing gifts from the dead." Despite having said that, he stepped aside, waved the attorney in.

"Thank you."

Justin wandered out of his studio. "Bri?"

"Mr. Kramer, my husband, Justin. Justin, Mr. Kramer. Kenneth's attorney," he explained.

Saying nothing, Justin positioned himself close to Brian, took the proffered canvas when Brian wouldn't.

Kramer, looking relieved to have delivered it, reached into his jacket and drew out an envelope. "This is for you as well."

Brian took it. "Instructions?" he asked facetiously.

"Mr. Kinney, I understand your feelings."

"Everyone says that but no one does," he replied, anger seeping into his tone. Justin touched his arm and he tried to relax.

"Kenneth told me what happened. All of it." Kramer could barely hold Brian's gaze. "I won't make excuses for him, for what he did to you. I can only say that… he loved you very much. I saw what was happening to him, from the moment he came back to Birmingham after meeting you for the first time. I could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He'd already begun to fall in love with you. It didn't matter that you were with someone else, that you were committed to another person, he loved you and there was nothing to be done for it."

Kenneth hadn't been the only one who'd been affected by their meeting, Brian confessed to himself. He'd found himself attracted to the biochemist almost immediately. But he'd had Justin at home waiting for him, even if things hadn't been perfect between them in the wake of Chris Hobbs' sentencing. Kenneth hadn't had anyone.

"Mr. Kinney, have you ever wanted something so badly you thought you'd die if you didn't have it? It was eating him up inside. Every time he saw you, said goodbye to you, it was like dying to him. Kenneth was a good man but he'd been alone too long, been dreaming about being with someone for so long, and you came along and you were everything he'd ever wanted. Everything. The only thing worse than never getting what you want is seeing it in front of your face, just out of reach."

Justin understood how Kenneth had felt. He'd felt that way himself sometimes over the course of his on-again, off-again relationship with Brian.

"After the party last year, Kenneth started slipping. Each time I saw him, I became more and more concerned about him. I asked him to get help but he was a very strong-willed man. Gradually, it seemed as if he'd pulled out of it and then, suddenly, in February, he began to get worse. I don't know what happened but he began to withdraw from his colleagues, his friends…"

 _I called him,_ Brian said to himself. _I called him…_ He turned slightly away.

"Brian?"

He gave a little shake of his head.

Kramer continued his story. "He took some time off in March, went up to a cabin he's got in the mountains. I didn't think being alone was such a good idea but he came back refreshed. Seemed himself again. Everyone thought so. And then, in April, everything fell apart again."

Brian regaining his memory of the rape. Both he and Justin looked down, ashamed of the unintentional parts they had played in Kenneth's downfall.

"He never meant to hurt you, Mr. Kinney," said Kramer. "I hope, in time, you'll forgive him. He would have wanted that." His message delivered, Kramer saw himself out.

Fingers gripping the edge of the painting, Justin fought down the urge to destroy it. Here was something else to hurt Brian, he was sure of it. And that letter, he wanted to throw it into the fire the way he'd thrown Chris Hobbs' letter into the flames at the inn. But, as they'd both learned, fire didn't destroy ideas, thoughts, or feelings.

Envelope in his hand, Brian found himself walking into the family room, Justin behind him. He sat down and studied the letter he held. Afraid to open it. To postpone doing so, he told Justin, "Unwrap it," meaning the painting.

It was of a Japanese woman, obviously an old painting, like something you'd see in a museum, Justin thought. He'd seen paintings like it in the Freer Museum in Washington, D.C. Unable to discern anything about the artist from the actual piece, he asked, "What does he say in the letter?" It had to have some special meaning, otherwise, why send Brian a painting of a Japanese woman?

Slowly, Brian opened the envelop and unfolded the letter. Braced himself for another blow. Read softly.

_"Dear Brian,_

_"If you're reading this, then I'm probably dead and you've received the painting. I hope you'll keep it but if you can't, I'll understand. There are a number of museums that would take it if you don't._

_"I suppose I should say first off that I'm sorry. I know that it doesn’t mean much but it's true. I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you and I hope that, someday, you can forgive me. I never meant to hurt you but I know that I did."_

Brian's jaw tightened and he paused for a moment. Justin said nothing, just ran his hand along his arm and waited. Brian began to read once more.

_"As for the painting, it was done by a 18th century master of ukiyoe or floating city paintings. It's of a beautiful, young kabuki actor from the play, Mask of the Oyama. In kabuki, men who play female roles are called oyama or onnagata. In Mask of the Oyama a young peasant named Kodayu and a young samurai named Taro fall in love but they cannot be together because of differences in their social classes. When Kodayu leaves the province to become a kabuki actor, Taro, devastated by his loss, commits suicide._

_"Kodayu becomes an actor and is very successful. None of the other young apprentices are as graceful, as beautiful, as convincing as he is on stage. But his heart is not in his work. He still mourns Taro, his lost love. Heartbroken, he disappears from Kyoto._

_"Years later, he appears at a monastery disguised as a young man named Koshichira. He pretends to be mute but the monks take him in as an acolyte. One day, Oda Gozaemon, the lord of the province, visits the monastery, sees Koshichira cleaning the floors, and mistakes him for a woman. Even after he learns of his error, he finds himself falling in love with the beautiful Koshichira._

_"Afraid that Koshichira will not respond to him as he is, Lord Gozaemon disguises himself as Sakuya, a servant in the lord's castle, and sets about winning Koshichira's friendship. Over time they become closer but Koshichira knows that Sakuya is in love with him and he does not want that. He still loves Taro and cannot give his heart to another. Repeatedly he refuses Sakuya's advances until Sakuya decides to reveal his true identity. He tells Koshichira that he has no choice but to acquiesce to his demands and orders him to appear at the castle._

_"Returning to the monastery, Koshichira decides to flee but before he can, Lord Gozaemon shows up to force him to obey. There is a struggle and Koshichira is slain. The spirit of Taro appears and together they vanish into the world of spirits, reunited at last."_

Brian stared at the painting. Was that how Kenneth had seen him? As the beautiful Kodayu? Heartbroken and doomed? Had he seen himself as Sakuya or Taro? Either way, both men had been destroyed by their love for Kodayu. As Kenneth had been destroyed by his love for Brian. He finished the letter, voice shaking as he read Kenneth's final words.

 _"I've spent the past year lying to myself, pretending that I knew who I was and what I wanted, driven by guilt and fear and lust. I was both Kodayu and Sakuya, hiding from myself, lying to myself, and pursuing something I could not hope to attain. In my heart, I wanted what was best for you but I also loved you so much, wanted you so much. I would often think of you when I was alone, remembering how beautiful you were, how so very beautiful. Even now, when everything has gone wrong between us, it haunts me: the memory of you. I hope that you keep the painting and think of me as I so desperately wanted to be…" His voice broke at the end, "As a friend who loved you,"_ and he closed his eyes against the tears that fell but the grief was too great and he sobbed. He too had hidden his true feelings behind a mask of indifference and self-delusion, refusing to see the truth.

Putting aside the painting, Justin held him until he was through crying, blinking back no few tears himself. Then, as Brian cleaned his face with the back of his hand, he asked quietly, "Where do you want to put it?"

Brian looked quizzically at him.

"The painting? Where do you want to hang it?"

He couldn't believe Justin's generosity and then he told himself that he should have expected it. When had Justin ever been less than understanding? Brian thought for a moment. "Maybe in the study."

Justin brushed a final, stray tear from Brian's cheek. "I think that's the perfect place." 

 

Wanting to get a few more pieces for the study before he hung the painting, Brian delayed putting it up for a couple of days, until he was able to purchase a rug and a secretary to hold the household bills. With the furniture and rug in place, he and Justin went about finding the perfect spot for the painting. In order to protect it from the direct light of the sun, they placed it on the other side of the secretary, closest to the door and farthest away from the window. And, Justin noticed, out of Brian's direct line of sight.

Once they were done, they stood and surveyed their work. Justin smiled appreciatively at the painting. "He really is beautiful. But," he added, "not as beautiful as you are. No make-up, no masks… I could sit and watch you all day."

A little flustered by the compliment, Brian, nevertheless, retorted, "Then maybe you could finish the drawings you started… for Kenneth."

They'd discussed it in New York but he hadn't really done anything further than the one sketch in the hotel that was more playing than anything else. And after Brian had remembered what had happened with Kenneth last year, Justin had been certain that the idea had been effectively killed. Yet, here was Brian suggesting they finish them once and for all. "You mean it?"

"He would have liked that."

"What about you?"

"I suppose I could use a Dorian Gray portrait to keep me young," smirked Brian.

"Hidden away in the basement?" as they did not have an attic.

Suddenly serious, he answered, "No." No more hiding. "Out in the open. For everyone to see." He needed Justin to do the sketches, needed to feel like himself again, needed to see himself through Justin's eyes. Eyes that saw his imperfections and flaws yet still loved him. Eyes that witnessed the moments when his strength and courage wavered yet never gave up on him. Despite having seen the real him, Justin never stopped loving him, never stopped seeing the beauty inside him. 

 

He was draped across the gold sofa in the livingroom. Naked, hair tousled for that just-fucked look. Which was appropriate since they'd just fucked a little while ago. He was turned towards Justin, face in clear view although his eyes were closed. One leg was braced against the floor, the other bent at the knee on the couch. He was an amber vision bathed in candlelight.

 _He really is beautiful._ For a moment, the thought stilled Justin's pencil and then he raised his pad and began to draw. Slowly. Methodically. After all, they had the rest of their lives to work on it.

 _Little one_  
Just a little way  
Today all we need is waiting  
Little one  
Just a little way  
Today all of the dreams are waking 4 

 

**Songs**

"Already Dead," Beck Hansen, Cyanide Breathmint Music/BMG Songs, Inc. (ASCAP).  
"Bashert (Meant to Be)," Ari Gold, Boogie Sauce Music (BMI) from his new album, Space Under Sun. Check out his website at http://www.arigold.com/  
"I Will Go Sailing No More," Randy Newman, Walt Disney Music Company (ASCAP).  
"Little One," Beck Hansen, Cyanide Breathmint Music/BMG Songs, Inc. (ASCAP).


End file.
